Deadman Wonderland
by LilttleFreak
Summary: In the world of the dead, the living are your only allies. Armed with a past darker than her future, Deliah aims to make herself a place in our favorite characters' slightly dysfunctional group. Ex-gang member and professional survivor, she'll quickly bond with a certain archer. Whether they like it or not. [Rated T for now, but will definitely bump up to M as time goes on]
1. Dixon's a Dick

**Deadman Wonderland**  
><strong>Ch. 1<strong>

**Dixon's a Dick**

"Hey, you alive?"

Something nudged my shoulder, pulling me back to consciousness. I groaned at the weight crushing me, clawing at the ground with my free hand to get myself up.

"Told ya. It's one of 'em."

"Miss?"

I winced, opening one of my eyes a crack to look at the strangers. There were four of them standing by me, two of which were close enough to touch. A tall man wearing a sheriff uniform, a shorter Asian man, a chubby African-American, and a redneck with his crossbow pointed at my forehead. The latter tightened his grip on his weapon. "Let's shoot this bitch and get movin' before Merle gets too far."  
>I frowned and licked my lips. "Ugh… Merle... That sexist crack-head bleedin' all over the place?"<p>

The men looked at each other, surprise coloring their features. The sheriff knelt down, giving Mr. Crossbow a look. "Yes. Did you see him?"  
>I groaned again and tried to change my position. "Yeah. Told him to go cauterize his stump, so he kicked me in the head." I hissed as I brushed against the egg-sized bruise on my scalp. "Son of a bitch."<br>The archer growled, shifting his stance. "That's my brother you're talkin' about!"

"Sorry." I muttered, rolling my eyes. The sheriff sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Did he hurt you?"  
>I snorted and shook my head. "Nah. Rung my bell, but that's it. You know, I'd probably be a lot more willing to play 20 questions if you actually got around to removin' the furniture crushin' my organs. You know, if you don't mind."<br>The redneck narrowed his eyes, finally lowering his weapon. "Watch your tone, girlie."  
>I narrowed my eyes back at him, using my free hand to brush some hair out of my face. "The name's Deliah, and I'd like to see <em>you<em> stay peachy pleasant after bein' trapped under heavy furniture for a day or two."

He snorted and moved over to help the sheriff. The Asian man took his place, playing with his hat. "I'm Glenn. Sorry, I'm not much help with the heavy lifting."  
>I shrugged, feeling the weight above me start to shift. "Eh, it don't really matter as long as I get outta here. Nice to meet ya."<br>Glenn put his hat back on, nodding. "Yeah. How'd that happen anyway?"  
>I sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I was scavengin' with my partner when a dead one came out of nowhere. I shoot it in the head, walk over to retrieve the arrow, and suddenly I'm trapped under a cupboard. Guess my partner got eaten or somethin'…"<p>

I trailed off, a ball forming in my throat at the thought. I'd already lost enough people. Mr. Crossbow spoke up, cutting Glenn off, his voice strained with effort. "You got arrows?"  
>I nodded and cleared my throat, my left hand curling around my bow. "Yeah, under here. Don't think they're broken."<p>

The men flipped the cabinet over with a grunt, finally freeing me. I sat up with a drawn-out groan, shoving the rotted corpse off of me and inspecting my bow. It had a new scratch on the handle and lovely coating of zombie guts, but the rest was fine. The quiver was still in place, attached to my bow, but a few arrows stuck out of their rungs. I slid them back into place and looked up at my rescue team. They stood in a half-circle around me, the crossbow pointed towards my head again. The sheriff put his hand on it and looked down to me. "Were you bitten?"  
>I snorted and stood up. "No way in hell. The stiff just acted as a cushion. Well, actually, I'm pretty lucky not to have been stabbed. You know, broken bones and all that. Thanks for gettin' that thing off me."<p>

I scrunched my nose and picked bits of brain matter off of my button-down shirt. Mr. Crossbow snorted and lowered his weapon as the sheriff held out his hand. "I'm Rick. Rick Grimes."  
>I shook Rick's hand. "Like I said earlier, I'm Deliah. No last name of my own."<p>

I released his hand and went to walk, but my legs had ideas of their own. Glenn caught me by the arm before I could faceplant. "Whoa there. You okay?"  
>I righted myself with an awkward chuckle, and bent down to grab a backpack from under a nearby desk. "Dandy. We'd better get goin' if you wanna find him."<br>The archer snorted again and walked off, following the blood trail. "Merle!"  
>I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. "Oh great, now <em>this one<em>'s raisin' hell. Like we didn't have enough as it is."  
>Rick hushed him, right on his heels. "We're not alone here. Remember?"<br>Our resident redneck scoffed in response. "Screw that. He could be bleeding out. You said so yourself."

"_Oh no, what a tragedy that would be."_

We walked into the kitchen area, the acrid smell of burnt flesh greeting us. Propane burners littered the stove, a belt off to the side, with a sheen of slowly drying blood covering the whole mess. We all walked over, and Rick picked up a flat metal piece crusted with carbonized flesh. Glenn looked at it, then back at Rick. "What's that burnt stuff?"  
>Rick pursed his lips and set it back down. "Skin. He cauterized the stump, like she said."<br>Mr. Crossbow looked down at it, abnormally quiet, then at the sheriff. "Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."  
>Rick turned back to us, giving the burnt skin one last look. "Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood."<br>The archer started walking off. "Yeah? Didn't stop him from bustin' out of this death trap."  
>We followed him to a busted window, Glenn peering through it from behind him. "He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?"<br>He straightened, moving out of the way for Rick. "Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows, doin' what he's gotta do. Survivin'."

He left, the rest of us staring after him. The last man (who'd been quiet until now) responded, gesturing at the window. "You call that survivin'? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passin' out? What are his odds out there?"  
>The archer walked back, glaring at all of us. "No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks."<br>I scowled as his stare turned on me. "Don't drag me into it. I had no part in this."  
>He snorted, moving closer to me. "That's right. You were too busy taking a nap, just waiting for a geek to come eat your face."<br>My scowl deepened, hand tightening around my bow. "Sorry to break it to ya, but who'd ya think told yer dear big brother where to go and what to get? Hm? Who told him what to do? Those are _my _fucking propane cans. I kept him _alive_ and it would do ya well to remember it, _puto_."  
>He growled and turned to Rick, getting right in his face. "Tch. That's right, you're the one who couldn't kill him. Ain't so worried about some dumb <em>dead<em> bastard."  
>Rick stared back, unphased. "What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?"<br>The man narrowed his eyes and stepped to the side. "Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'm gonna go get him."  
>Rick pushed him back towards Glenn. "Daryl, wait."<br>"Daryl" growled, getting right back in his face. "Get your hand off me! You can't stop me."  
>Rick stared back at the man, anger bleeding through his words. "I don't blame you. He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around, but only if we keep a <em>level<em> head."  
>Daryl swallowed down his temper before answering. "I could do that."<br>Rick looked over to the last unnamed man, who promptly shook his head. "Only if we get those guns first. I'm not strollin' the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"  
>I clapped a hand on my thigh, looking at my new companions. "Perfect. Let's get goin' then. We ain't got all day."<p>

We walked back to the office area, each settling in our own spot. Glenn and no-name sat on the ground, I sat on a desk in front of them, Daryl on a table to my left, and Rick stood between him and Glenn. I crossed my legs, setting my bow down by them. "So. What's the plan? Other than "don't get bit"."  
>Rick shrugged, looking down at the smallest group member. "Ask Glenn, he knows the area better than all of us combined."<br>Our would-be GPS nodded and shoved papers over, leaving a large patch of linoleum. "T-Dog, could you hand me some markers?"  
>The man handed him a large black marker, and Glenn promptly started drawing squares on ground.<p>

"_Funny… Less than a year ago, I would've been arrested for just _being_ in here. And now… Heh, no one gives a shit if we draw on the floor with markers."_

Glenn looked up. "Theses are blocks, and we're over here right now. I'll run and get the bag that's on this street."  
>Rick shifted his weight, looking down at Glenn. "You're not doing this alone."<br>Daryl snorted, sitting in a weird position to see. "Even I think it's a bad idea, and I don't even like you much."  
>Glenn looked up at Rick, twirling his pen. "It's a good idea, okay, if you just hear me out."<p>

Rick crouched to his level, rubbing his face. Glenn pointed down at the map. "If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast. Look."  
>He placed a binder clip on one of the streets. "That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now." A crumpled post-it note. "That's the bag of guns."<br>He pointed at the street on the other side of the drawn square. "Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That's where Daryl and I will go."  
>The archer shifted, looking from the crude map to its creator. "Why me?"<br>Glenn tipped his head in response. "Your crossbow's quieter than his gun."  
>The two exchanged facial expressions, and Glenn added a bookmark tab packet to the map. "While Daryl waits here in the alley, I run up the street, grab the bag."<br>Rick frowned at our battlefield plan. "You got us elsewhere?"  
>Glenn grabbed an eraser and added it a few blocks up from the tank. "You, Deliah, and T-Dog. Right. You'll be in this alley here."<br>Rick frowned again. "Two blocks away? Why?"  
>Glenn shook his head, looking up from his art. "I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won't go back to Daryl. I'll go forward instead, all the way around to that alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. And if you get into trouble, she can bail you out without alerting the rest of the geeks. Afterwards, we'll all meet back here."<br>A second of utter silence passed before Daryl spoke. "Hey kid, what'd you do before all this?"  
>Glenn frowned at him, completely confused. "Delivered pizzas. Why?"<p>

We all exchanged looks.

"_Huh. Well, you know what they say. Learned it from the pizza man."_

We left all unnecessary equipment on the desks and followed Glenn. He led us farther into the building, up a ladder and onto a roof. "Watch your steps. You fall, you die."

I quickly found out Glenn and I got along, complimenting my sarcasm with his witty sense of humor. We walked to another roof, then to its edge. Glenn looked down, then positioned himself on the ladder attached to the side of the building. "Here I go…"

Glenn climbed down the bright yellow rungs, frantically checking for deaders. Daryl followed, crossbow in hand as soon as he hit the ground. They ran off to their alley, hugging the walls. I turned to see Rick and T-Dog standing behind me, the latter of which shrugged. "Ladies first."  
>I rolled my eyes and made my way down. "I am <em>definitely <em>tellin' Glenn and Daryl you called 'em ladies."

I knocked an arrow in place as Rick hit the ground, T-Dog following suit. We ran off to our alley, following the others' example. It was mere seconds before a young man's voice ran out.

"_Ayudame!"_

Rick turned to us, confusion and fear clear on his face. I nodded and we took off towards the sound without another thought, sprinting as the Hispanic words turned into Glenn's panicked voice. "Get off me. Get off me! Daryl! Daryl! DARYL!"  
>A door slammed, tires screeched, and the hick's voice followed. "Come back here, you sumbitches!"<p>

We ran into his alley just as he grabbed some teen in a wife-beater and threw him against the wall. Rick ran in-between them, pushing Daryl back. "Whoa whoa whoa. Stop it!"  
>The archer gestured over the ex-sheriff's head, red in the face. "I'm gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!"<br>The teen started struggling against T-Dog's hand. "Let me go."  
>Our comrade barely glanced at him, more worried about Daryl. "Chill out. What happened?"<br>The archer tried to get around Rick, pointing at the teen. "They took Glenn. That little bastard and his little bastard homie friends. I'm gonna stomp your ass!"  
>I glared at the kid, anger coiling and rising in my stomach. "They <em>what<em>?"  
>Daryl looked over to me, pure rage emanating from him. "Them fuck-asses nabbed Glenn! Two turned on me and a third grabbed him. They'd better <em>pray<em> I don't get my hand on them!"

My mind went blank, reverting back to its gang instincts. You hurt one of ours, we hurt you. _Bad._ I dropped my bow and lunged at our hostage, shoving T-Dog out of the way. I snarled, one hand wrapped around his throat while the other repeatedly punched him in the gut. "You. Little. Shit. Eating. Dumb. Ass. Mother. FUCKERS!"  
>My voice dropped to a snarl. <em>"Voy a arrancar sus tripas, puto."<em>

T-Dog grabbed me around the waist, pulling me away from the teen. I growled and clawed at him, to no avail. I snarled, trying to kick the kid now coughing against the wall. "Where the fuck'd you take him?!"

T-Dog shouted over my head, his words taking my anger down a notch. "Guys, guys! We're cut off!"

And indeed, zeds were piling up against the fence, pushing against the flimsy wire mesh. The sight definitely sobered me up. Rick pointed at the buildings behind us, still holding Daryl off. "Get to the lab. Go."

T-Dog let me go and grabbed our hostage by the arm before running. I snagged my bow, Rick grabbed his bag o' guns, and Daryl cocked his crossbow. "Come on. Damn, let's go!"

Rick swiped a hat off the ground and ran, Daryl following suit. We sprinted back to our original building, avoiding the few walkers prowling around. Rick passed me around the last corner, his bag swinging back and forth. I stuck my arm between my bow's handle and strings when we reached the building, making quick work of the first ladder. Daryl reached the platform just as I began the second ladder, stomping his foot. "C'mon! Get your ass movin'!"  
>I glared down at him, continuing my climb. "I am! The stiffs aren't on our heels anymore. Chill the fuck out."<br>He started up the ladder, his hands at my heels. "What'd you say, girlie?! I oughta kick your ass!"  
>I rolled my eyes, skipping rungs to go faster. "Nevermind."<p>

We reached the top soon after and I hoisted myself over the ledge, like one would the edge of a swimming pool. I was about to walk off when I heard a thud and Daryl curse. I looked over the edge to see him hanging by one hand, feet dangling. I grabbed his free hand without a second thought and pulled him up, pushing my foot again the wall for leverage. He finally came over the edge and onto me, knocking me over, the both of us ending up on the ground. I groaned under the weight, glaring at the brown hair next to my face. "You're welcome. Now get off."  
>He pushed himself up, his eyes narrowed. "You got a problem with me?"<br>I crossed my arms and scowled back at him. "Well, first off, you're bein' kind of a dick. Just 'cause your brother was a first-class prick, doesn't mean you have to be one too. Make your own choices, man! Second, you're kinda still keepin' me from getting' up."

He huffed and got up, going out of my field of vision. I sat up and rubbed my sore shoulder. Only then did I realize my bow wasn't on there anymore. I turned around, searching the ground. "Where's my-"

I stopped mid-sentence when my eyes met Daryl's shoes. I looked up to his hand, or rather, what was in it. He was inspecting my bow, turning over. "Not bad… Decent weight/equipment ratio. But I'm more of a crossbow kinda guy, ya know. Easier to shoot and all that."  
>I shrugged, getting up. "Eh. You take what you can get. I was out huntin' with some buddies when it all went to shit."<p>

He nodded, handing it to me before walking off. I jogged after him, adjusting the weapon on my shoulder. He opened the trap door and lowered himself down. "Don't stay out there too long, Princess."  
>I scowled at the top of his head. "I oughta jump on you."<p>

I heard his chuckle all the way from the surface, and followed in after him with an almighty roll of my eyes. We walked back to the office space, where Rick, T-Dog, and our hostage were hanging out. Rick turned to us, putting his hat down. "Everything alright?"  
>I nodded, plopping down on my desk. "We're good. Minor squabble at the ladder, but we're good."<br>Rick nodded and looked at our hostage, frowning. "Those men you were with, we need to know where they went."  
>He wiped some blood off of his mouth, looking up at him. "I ain't tellin' you nothing."<br>T-Dog sighed, shaking his head. "Jesus, man. What the hell happened back there?"  
>Daryl started pacing, glaring at the teen. "I told you. This little turd and his douchbag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me."<br>The Latino glanced up at him, crossing his arms. "You're the one who jumped me, _puto_."  
>I growled at him, twanging my bow's string in annoyance. "Easy on the insults, <em>cabrón<em>. I still wanna smash your face in."  
>His eyes flicked to me, twitching at the name. "Screamin' about tryin' to find his brother like it's my damn fault."<br>Daryl paced at faster rate behind me. "They took Glenn, could've taken Merle too."  
>The kid looked up, an amused expression on his face. "Merle? What kind of hick name is <em>that<em>? I wouldn't name my_ dog_ Merle."

Daryl stopped for a millisecond, and then lunged at the kid, trying to kick his head when Rick grabbed him mid-leap. Our unofficial leader pushed him back, panting with the effort. "Dammit, Daryl. Back off."

The archer looked back at the kid and walked over to Glenn's pack, rummaging through it. He pulled out something wrapped in a blue bandana, undoing the folds. "Wanna see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?"

He turned and tossed a hand onto the teen's lap. The kid immediately started screaming, fell off his chair, and scrambled away. Daryl jumped on him, grabbing his throat. "Start with the feet this time."  
>Rick pulled him off again, getting between the two. "The men you were with took our friend. All we want to do is talk to them; see if we can work something out."<br>The kid shook his head, arms crossed. "I'm not taking you to them."  
>Rick sighed and squatted to his level. "We just want to talk. That's it. I don't want to fight unless we absolutely have to."<br>The teen started at every member of our group, fear and determination mixing in his eyes. "Why would I trust you? Two of your people tried to kill me."  
>I shook my head and bent down to pick up the blue bandana and Merle's hand. "If I'd tried to kill you, you'd be dead. And would not come back." I wrapped the appendage and put it back in Glenn's backpack before walking over to my own. "C'mere for a sec, kid. I want to show you somethin'. And before you ask, no, I don't have body parts in here."<br>The teen watched me go about warily. "Why can't you just bring it over here?"  
>I sighed and undid the straps tying the larger pocket closed. "Just do it."<br>He got up unsteadily and walked over, making a large circle around Daryl. "What'd you want?"

I opened the bag for him to see, pushing aside cans. Rope, ducktape, and quite a bit more came to light. I looked over at the kid, my voice low. "_No dice nada, comprende? Estos son mis instrumentos, y sé cómo usarlos. Rick y T-Dog no me lo permite cerca de usted, pero puedo fácilmente noquearlos y... _heh_… encerrarlos en un armario. Mi amigo Daryl aquí, así que no creo que va a objetar. No voy a mirarte matas mi compañero_." I straightened, smiling lightly. "So, will you take us? "

The kid's face had completely drained of color. He swallowed nervously and nodded. "Y-Yeah. Just… Promise to talk to G before doing anything."  
>I smiled sweetly and nodded. "Deal."<p>

The three men behind us stared, dumbfounded. I chuckled and closed my bag. "Well, let's get going!"

We all grabbed our weapons and followed the teen down that damned ladder and through several ground-floor buildings to the outer edge of Atlanta. We managed to avoid most of the zeds, Daryl and I taking out stragglers. The kid stopped behind a busted window, trees and the remainder of a wall hiding us from view. "Here. That's the last place we won't be seen. After this, we go through a couple courtyards and we're at HQ."  
>I smiled at him, making his back stiffen. "Thanks. Rick, what's our plan?"<br>Rick pulled out shotgun cartridges, rolling them in his hand. "I don't know. We can't let them get the guns, but we can't leave Glenn either. We need some kind of backup."  
>T-Dog cocked his scoped shotgun. "I'll do it. I'll take the bag and go post myself by the wall. Keep an eye on you guys."<br>Rick peered around the tree, shaking a red cartridge. "You sure you're up for this?"  
>T-Dog nodded, taking a shaky breath. "Yeah."<br>Rick loaded his gun, the cartridges clicking. "Okay."

T-Dog grabbed the bag of guns, his own in hand, and walked off to his spot. Daryl looked down at our hostage, distaste coloring his tone. "One wrong move, you get an arrow in the ass. Just so you know."  
>The Latino raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "G's gonna take that arrow out of my ass, and shove it up yours. Just so <em>you<em> know."  
>Rick looked over, an eyebrow up. "G?"<br>The kid pursed his lips, rocking from side to side. "Guillermo. He's the man here."  
>Rick cocked his gun, then looked up at Daryl. "Okay then. Let's go see Guillermo."<p>

He slipped under the broken window, then our hostage, then Daryl, then me. We let the teen walk in front of us, weapons drawn. He led us through the courtyards and up to an old wooden door. Said door opened, and a man stepped out. He looked our hostage over, squinting against the light. "You okay little man?"  
>The kid shrugged in response, slight panic in his voice. "They're gonna cut off my feet,<em> carnal<em>."  
>The man looked over to Rick, raising an eyebrow. "Cops do that?"<br>The kid shook his head. "Not him. This redneck _puto _here and his psycho girlfriend."  
>I growled at him, itching to draw my bow. "What'd I say 'bout insults <em>cabrón?<em> And I ain't his girlfriend."  
>He ignored me, continuing his panicked rant. "He cut off some dude's hand, man. He showed it to me."<br>Daryl shifted his crossbow, eyes narrowing. "Shut up."  
>Two more guys came out, the fatter one pointing at Daryl. "Hey, that's that <em>vato <em>right there, homes. He shot me in the ass with an arrow. What's up, homes, huh?  
>The first man put his hand over the guy's gun, pushing it down. "Chill, ese, Chill. Chill."<br>He turned back to us, raising his eyebrows again. "This true? He wants Miguelito's feet? That's pretty sick, man."  
>Rick lowered his gun an inch or two. "We were hopin' more for a calm discussion."<br>The first man looked over to Daryl, then back at Rick. "That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets an arrow in the ass, and you want a calm discussion? You fascinate me."  
>Rick nodded an acknowledgement. "Heat of the moment. Mistakes were made… On both sides."<br>The man stayed silent for a few seconds, then motioned towards Daryl. "Who's that dude to you anyway? You don't look related."  
>Rick tipped his head to the side, straightening his gun. "He's one of our group, more or less. I'm sure you have a few like him."<br>Guillermo looked at me next, raising an eyebrow. "And her?"  
>Rick looked back at me, then to the other man. "Picked her up in Atlanta about a half hour ago. I'd guess she's part of our group too."<br>Daryl took a step forward, still looking through his crossbow's sight. "You got my brother in there?"  
>Guillermo shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry, we're fresh out of white boys. But I've got Asian. You interested?"<p>

I growled quietly. Rick nodded, pointing at Miguel with his shotgun. "I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade."  
>Guillermo cocked his head to the side. "Don't sound even to me."<br>The boy whined, taking half a step forward. "G. Come on man."  
>G continued, ignoring him. "My people got attacked. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where's my bag of guns?"<br>Rick raised an eyebrow. "Guns?"  
>Guillermo nodded, a smug look on his face. "The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns."<p>

"You're mistaken. " He replied, head tilting to the side. The other man shook his head. "I don't think so."  
>The ex-sheriff cut him off. "About it bein' yours. It's my bag of guns."<br>Guillermo took a step back, shaking his head once. "That bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I'm supposed to take your word? What's stopping my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what's mine?"

Daryl shifted his crossbow from Miguel to Guillermo, and I drew my bow. Rick shifted his weight, shotgun on our common target. "You could do that."  
>He made a point of looking up at where T-Dog was posted, scoped gun visible. "Or not."<p>

"_Oye."_

Three men appeared on the rooftop, one wearing a paper bag. I growled under my breath. "Glenn. _Hijo de puta_."  
>Guillermo looked back down at us. "I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood."<p>

Guillermo gave a smug smile and walked back in, his cronies following. The doors closed and silence returned. I cursed and shot my arrow into the door. Rick put a hand on my shoulder, voice low. "Let it go. Grab your arrow and we'll leave."

I sighed heavily and pulled my arrow out of the thick door. I jammed it back in my quiver, stomping back over to the group. I shoved Miguel forward, not caring if he tripped, swearing under my breath the whole way. We once again went up that goddamn ladder and walked back to the office. I only noticed T-Dog had joined us when Rick slammed the gun bag onto the table and began rummaging through it. Daryl started pacing again, fists clenched. "Them guns are worth more than gold. Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You willin' to give that up for that kid?"  
>T-Dog piped up from his seat by the blackboard. "If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree. But you think that vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?"<br>Miguel looked over, offended. "You calling G a liar?"

"_Well we ain't calling him a truther..."_

Daryl stomped over to him, slapping his ear. "Are you a part of this? You wanna hold on to your teeth?"  
>T-Dog looked from Miguel to Rick. "Question is, do you trust that man's word?"<br>Daryl took a seat on the windowsill, crossing his arms. "No, question is what are you willing to bet on it? Could be more that guns. Could be your life. Glenn worth that to you?"  
>Rick clicked his gun in place and put it in its holster. "What little life I have I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could've walked away, but he didn't. Neither will I."<br>Daryl stood up again. "So you're gonna hand the guns over?"  
>Rick looked up from the bag, a hand on the table. "I didn't say that."<br>I snorted. "Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon."  
>He looked at Daryl, T-Dog, and I, shaking his head. "There's nothing keeping you three here. You should get out, head back to camp."<br>T-Dog rubbed his head, frowning. "And tell your family what?"

Daryl and I nodded in agreement, and reached for the table. I grabbed a shotgun, sliding a loaded handgun in my belt. Miguel stood up, only to be pushed back by Daryl. "Come on, this is nuts."  
>He sat back down, rubbing his head. "Just do like G says."<p>

We ignored him, loading our guns. He whined and looked around the group. "C'mon… Seriously… You're gonna get us killed."  
>I snapped the barrel back in position, and turned to the teen. "Shut up, will ya? We need the guns to protect our camp, and we're not leaving one of our own behind. End of story."<br>He snorted and looked out the window. "You've never even been there. Your _camp _doesn't even know you exist. Why are you doing this?"  
>I shrugged and cocked my gun. "Don't mean I don't have to protect 'em. These guys saved my life; I owe them. And I take life debts <em>very <em>seriously. You're in a gang, right?"

He nodded uncertainly. I smirked, jerking my chin up. "Then you should've known better than to mess with a girl's _familia_. Now stand up, we're goin'."

He pulled himself up, mumbling. I turned to dig through my backpack and pulled out two large bands of cloth, stepping towards our hostage. "Actually, hold on a sec. We gotta make it realistic, no?"  
>Daryl stepped forward, a slight grin on his features. "Yeah. Gotta look the part!"<br>Rick sighed in defeat and hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. "If it'll keep you guys from guttin' him…"  
>I grinned and tossed the other band to my colleague. "I'll get his wrists, you gag him."<br>Daryl looked down at his strip, then back at me. "Why the hell do you get to tie him up?"  
>I shrugged, my grin turning mischievous. "Because I'm gonna need someone to hold him down while I do my thing. You think you could do that?"<p>

Instead of answering, the archer pounced on Miguel, knocking the kid flat. I chuckled and started tying his wrists. The Latino tried to squirm out from under Daryl, yelling incomprehensible Spanish. I finished the knot and stood up, Daryl pulling the kid to his feet. He let out a half laugh as he forced the second band over the teen's mouth. "You don't like that, eh? Eh?"  
>I smirked at the sight. "Well I do."<p>

The archer grinned at me and tightened his knot. Rick pulled Miguel away from us, his eyes lingering a second too long for him to pretend he was completely comfortable. "Alright, let's get going."

We walked back through that god-awful city, back to the_ Vatos'_ headquarters. Daryl pushed the gagged Miguel forward with his gun, leading our little procession. The doors opened as soon as we reached the courtyard, and Daryl pushed our prisoner in before following. The doors closed behind us, Guillermo and his men surrounding our little group. He looked at Rick's gun, then at the man himself. "I see my guns, but they're not all in the bag."  
>Rick edged forward, shaking his head a bit. "That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that."<br>G's fatter henchman leaned over to him. "Let's just shoot these fools right now, _ese. _Alright? Unload on their asses, _ese_."

Daryl and I shifted our targets, T-Dog backing up Rick. Guillermo looked around him, his eyes stopping on Rick. "I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"_Damn. Wordy bastard, aren't ya?"_

Rick lowered his gun, shaking his head. "No, I'm pretty clear."  
>He cut Miguel's binds off, shoving him forward. "You have your man. I want mine."<br>Guillermo took a second before responding, walking right up to Rick's face. "I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?"  
>Rick took a step back, cocking his gun. "No, my hearing's fine. You said come locked and loaded."<p>

The rest of us cocked our guns too, G's men following suit. Rick put his barrel in Guillermo's face, the Latino edging back. "Okay then, we're here."  
>An old woman's voice rang out above the noise, dispelling some of the tension. "Felipe! Felipe!"<br>"Felipe" turned to the old woman as soon as she appeared, fear in his voice. "_Abuela,_ go back with the others- now."  
>Daryl spoke up too, his voice distorted by the handle of his gun. "Get that old lady out of the line of fire!"<p>

I looked over to him, a small smile threatening to surface despite the situation.

"_Not such an ass after all, hm?"_

Guillermo looked at the tiny woman behind him. "_Abuela_, listen to your _mijo_, okay? This is not the place for you right now."  
>The old lady kept advancing, ignoring all instructions. "Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlito didn't find it. He needs his medicine."<br>Guillermo looked to his right, back at the woman, back at Rick, then at Felipe. "Felipe, go take care of it, okay? And take your grandma with you. _Abuela deje por favor_."  
>The old lady pushed past her grandson. "Who are those men?"<p>

"_Abuela, por favor. Deje con me." _Felipe pleaded, to no avail. The tiny woman glared up at Rick, shaking her head. "Don't you take him."  
>Rick lowered his gun, raising an eyebrow. "Ma'am?"<p>

"Felipe's a good boy. He have his trouble but he pull himself together. We need him here." She continued, shuffling forward. Rick looked around the room awkwardly. "Ma'am, I'm not here to arrest your grandson."  
>The old woman shook her head, confused. "Then what do you want him for?"<br>Rick took another look around the room. "He's…"  
>I lowered my gun, finishing his sentence. "Helpin' us find a missin' person. A friend of ours named Glenn. <em>Lo ha visto<em>?"  
>Both Rick and Daryl gave me a look, and the small woman took a few more steps forward. "The Asian boy? He's with Mr. Gilbert. Come. Come, I show you. He needs his medicine."<br>She grabbed Rick's hand and began dragging him away. Guillermo sighed in defeat. "Let 'em pass."

Everyone lowered their weapons, and our small group squeezed through the horde of burly Latinos. The old woman led us out of the warehouse, through a courtyard, up a few stairs to a sunny yard, and finally into a bright building that looks suspiciously like an old folks home. Felipe stopped her a few steps into the hall. "_Abuela, por favor_. Take me to him."

She led him off, Rick following farther behind. He took off his hat, looking at the people we passed. We ended up in a large, theater-like room, where over a dozen elderlies were seated at tables. There was a cluster in the farthest left, Felipe's voice coming from the center. "Nice and easy. Just breathe. Just breathe. Let it out. Just breathe."  
>Rick looked around him in disbelief. "What the hell is this?"<br>Glenn looked over, his hat back on his head. "An asthma attack. Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."  
>T-Dog spoke up from behind me, frowning. "I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man."<p>

Glenn turned, looking at three tiny Chihuahuas in a leopard-print basket. Rick bent down to be face-to-face with Guillermo. "Could I have a word with you?"

He nodded, and the two stepped aside from the group. I sighed and looked at Glenn, ignoring their side conversation. "Well, since no one will say it, I guess I have to. Good to know you're safe. Even if I seriously want to hit you upside the head for bein' so casual."  
>Glenn took off his hat and ruffled his hair, looking down. "Thanks… I think."<p>

I sighed and sat in the closest chair, picking dried zombie bits from my clothes. A quick check of my braid made me scrunch up my nose. "Erk. I seriously need a shower."  
>Glenn sat by me, giving me a half-shy smile. "You can bathe back at camp. Lake water's cold and we only have bar soap, but it works."<br>T-Dog sat on the other side of me, leaning on his elbows. "Actually, we only got one soap. Period. Couldn't find any in this hellhole."  
>I shrugged, giving them a half-smile. "Hey, if it works…"<br>Rick walked over to us, Daryl in tow, effectively ending the conversation. "C'mon. We have some things to discuss with Guillermo here."

We got up and followed him, stopping in front of a door across the hall. We all filtered in after Rick, T-Dog taking the bench. Rick set the troublesome bag down, looking at Guillermo. "What about the rest of your crew?"  
>G shrugged from his seat on the desk. "The Vatos trickled in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too. We need the muscle." The man paused. "The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind- plunderers, the kind that take by force."<br>Rick shook his head. "That's not who we are."  
>Guillermo shrugged again. "How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage. Appearances."<br>T-Dog slouched even further, shaking his head. "Guess the world changed."  
>Guillermo shook his head at the comment. "No. It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The Vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. Most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves, so that's just a dream." He trailed off. "Still, it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except for one entrance. The Vatos, they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. … The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why."<br>Rick finally spoke, his eyes never leaving the other man. "Because they can."  
>I chuckled, a hand on my hip. "You're a pretty damn good bullshitter, Guillermo. I'll give you that." I shrugged. "Appearances are enough for these folks."<p>

Rick handed him his shotgun, and unzipped the bag. He pulled out several shotguns and a few handguns, setting them on the desk behind G. "Save your ammo and protect these people."

He turned and left without another word, slinging the bag over his shoulder. T-Dog and Daryl followed, and I turned to Guillermo on my way out, a slight smirk on my features. "_Oy_, Guillermo. Tell those _vatos_ of yours _Los Hijos_ say hello."

He furrowed his brow, but I was already gone. The five of us left the nursing home and made our way back through the warehouse, ignoring the looks from Guillermo's men. Glenn led us through an alternate route, going up on the rooftops instead. We gathered our supplies and took the stairs down, exiting at the rear of the building. We walked out onto the much brighter street, squinting against the sun. Glenn walked besides Rick, a light smile on his face. "Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat."  
>Rick chuckled in return. "Don't tell anybody."<br>Daryl turned around, walking backwards. "You've given away half our guns and ammo."  
>The other man shook his head. "Not <em>nearly <em>half."  
>He ignored him, turning around again. "For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long you think they got?"<br>Rick looked off to the side, his tone heavy. "How long do any of us?"  
>I rolled my eyes and retorted in a sing-songy voice. "Every party has a pooper, that's why we invited you. Party-poopeeer, party-poopeeer…."<p>

One of the guys snorted a laugh besides me, the rest grinning slightly. The group stopped and stared at the train tracks in front of us, Glenn speaking up. "Oh my god."  
>Daryl followed, disbelief coloring his tone. "Where the hell's our van?"<br>Glenn shook his head, starting to panic. "We left it right there. Who would take it?"  
>Rick frowned, looking at empty tracks. "Merle."<br>A few seconds of silence passed before Daryl turned to the rest of us. "He's gonna be takin' some vengeance back to camp."  
>I sighed, rubbing my face. "Well then we better start walkin'. I don't wanna be in here when it gets dark."<br>I began walking off, only to be cut off by Daryl's arm. "Where the hell do ya think you're goin'? Camp's that way."  
>I shrugged and pointed in the direction I was walking. "Maybe, but my truck's over there."<br>Rick walked up, readjusting his hat. "Truck?"  
>I looked back at him, nodding. "Yeah. Unless corpsecicles can drive, it should still be there."<br>Daryl put his arm down, crossing them instead. "What about your partner or whatever. Couldn't he have taken it?"  
>I shook my head, walking again. "It's a she, and no. Can't drive. She's one of them or she's with your brother. Besides, <em>I<em> have the keys to Big Blue."  
>I heard Glenn speak behind me, doubt in his voice. "Big Blue?"<br>I chuckled and adjusted my backpack. "You'll see."

We reached my truck a few minutes later, the sky-blue machine gleaming in the setting sun. I unlocked the doors, tossing my backpack on the back seats. "Alright guys, any and all items you don't want in danger go in here."

Glenn and Rick handed me their bags, and they joined mine in the back. I went around back and undid the gate to the truck bed. "Everyone except Glenn, climb in. The gate is on auto-lock, so just pull it shut when you're all in. Glenn, you're up front and tell me where to go."

I climbed in the driver's seat, Glenn following suit. I jammed my bow in the side of my seat, within easy reach. I started the truck and checked the others were seated before pulling out of the station with a screech. "See why it's called Big Blue?"  
>Glenn nodded, hanging on to the dash for dear life. "Yeah… Uh... Does this thing have airbags?"<br>I laughed and drove onto the nearest road. "Yeah, it's only missin' seatbelts. Whether we're in walker-infested Atlanta or the ghetto, they're a hazard."

Glenn nodded weakly, and pointed out the correct road. About five minutes into the drive, I smiled and patted the steering wheel. "This thing's been through hell. Used to be all rusted and chipped, a really piece of crap. The last owner told me his friend had accidentally blown up the garage. Big Blue was the only thing left."  
>Glenn looked around the cabin. "Then why'd you buy it?"<br>I shrugged and grinned. "I was in need of a big sturdy thing, and a mechanic owed me a favor. The color was his revenge. But hey, motherfuckers _knew_ when the party came to town. This thing's carried some serious ass-kickers it its day."  
>Glenn chuckled. "I bet. Turn left here."<p>

We drove in mostly comfortable silence the rest of the way. That is, until gunshots rang out. Rick grabbed and cocked his gun, knocking on my back windshield. "Oh my god. Go, go! _DRIVE_!"

Glenn reached in the back seat and pulled out two shotguns, checking the ammo before cocking them, and the rest of the guys did the same with their own. I stepped on the gas, pulling into a full-on battle, more walkers than people prowling around the camp. We all jumped out and started shooting, spreading out in all different directions. I quickly ran out of shells, moving on to my handgun. I threw it to the side when it ran out too, using the heel of the shotgun to bash their brains in. Rick ran straight for his son, the rest of us continuing to eliminate the threat. I was so busy bashing in some poor band geek's brain that I didn't hear the other zed until it was right behind me. I tried to jump away, but it had caught my braid with its thin fingers and yanked me back. I smacked it away with my shotgun and stomped on its face, effectively crushing the weakened bone and destroying the brain.

"_Disgusting."_

Soon, but not soon enough, the only sound to be heard was panting. I wiped sweat and blood off of my face, looking at the camp survivors. Silence reined over us as people took in what had just happened. Then, all of a sudden, people were hugging and crying into each other's shoulders. I just stood there awkwardly with my shotgun, until Daryl came up to me. I raised an eyebrow, silently glad that I didn't have to stand there alone. "You ain't gonna hug me and cry, are ya?"  
>He snorted, looking at the pitiful scene before us. "No way in hell. But Glenn might."<br>I chuckled and shook my head, sticking a hand in my back pocket. "As much as I like the kid, not gonna happen. Looks like he's gonna puke."

One woman's wails rose above the rest, a name cutting through the air. Some guy looked around him with wide eyes, blood splattered on his face. "I remember my dream now. I remember why I dug the holes."

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_I LIIIIIIIIVE! __I'm back from the dead, but please don't shoot me in the head. _

_I've been sitting on this for a while, and finally decided to upload it. Yeah. Please don't hate me.  
>Yes, yes, I do realize my Spanish may be a bit off, but hey. Sue me.<em>

_I'll leave you with (a shitload of) translations, and hope to see you soon!_

_Ayudame = Help me  
><em>Voy a arrancar sus tripas, puto = I'm going to rip out your guts, asshole (the translation isn't perfect)<br>_cabrón = asshole, only worse  
>No dice nada, comprende? Estos son mis instrumentos, y sé cómo usarlos. Rick y T-Dog no me lo permite cerca de usted, pero puedo fácilmente noquearlos y... heh… encerrarlos en un armario. Mi amigo Daryl aquí, así que no creo que va a objetar. No voy a mirarte matas mi compañero. = Don't say anything, got it? These are my tools, and I know how to use them. Rick and T-Dog will not let me near you, but I can easily knock them out and ... heh ... lock them in a closet. My friend Daryl here, well I don't think he's going to object. I will not watch you kill my companion. (holy shit that was a lot)<br>vato literally means "dude"  
>oye = hey!<br>hijo de puta = son of a bitch (technically whore)  
>familia = family (come on, seriously?)<br>abuela = grandmother  
>mijo = grandson (or it's supposed to be, idk)<br>_deje por favor = please leave  
><em>con me = with me  
>lo ha visto = have you seen him<br>los hijos = the sons  
><em>__

___Damn. Okay. Sorry about that. ___

**___Chapter 2 is done and will be uploaded this weekend!___**


	2. Bye-Bye Big Blue

**Deadman Wonderland  
>Ch. 2<strong>

**Bye-bye Big Blue**

I sat up with a groan. Sleeping in cars had never been my favorite. I hopped out of Big Blue and stretched, walking towards T-Dog. "Mornin'. What do I gotta do around here?"  
>He looked up from the corpse he was dragging. "You actually slept?"<br>I shrugged and grabbed the feet, helping him along. "This happened a lot with my old group."  
>T-Dog raised his eyebrows. "A lot? You know why?"<br>I shrugged again. "It might've had to do with the fact we played music at night. Loud singing, guitar, drums… The works."  
>He shook his head. "Y'all crazy."<br>I grinned and tossed the body onto a small pile. "Maybe. But it's good practice, you know. Are we just cleanin' up?"

T-Dog nodded, wiping sweat off his brow. I gave him a thumb up and got my pickaxe out of my car. I walked off a bit, towards a stack of bodies. I knelt to drag one, and was almost immediately grabbed by the braid. A live zed had gotten trapped under dead ones, and tangled its bony fingers in my hair. I smashed the pickaxe through its head and yanked its fingers out, not caring that I'd gotten splattered with rancid blood. I pulled my hunting knife from its holster, the sharp blade gleaming, and pulled my hair back to slide the blade across the base of the braid. I straightened a few seconds later, looking at the dark hair in my hand. I put my knife back and tossed the braid to the side, grabbing hold of the corpse and dragging it back to the others.

"_No more of that hair-pullin' bullshit."_

I tossed the corpse onto the growing pile and wiped my hands on my jeans. Not that they were any cleaner. I turned to see Daryl walk up, a half body over his shoulder. He tossed it on top of mine and narrowed his eyes at me. "What'd you do to your hair?"  
>I shrugged and walked towards another corpse. "Cut it. Easier to keep clean."<br>He followed, walking next to me. "And walkers can't grab it."  
>I knelt down to grab the stiff's arms. "Yeah. <em>And walkers can't grab it..<em>."  
>Daryl smirked grabbed its legs, thankfully ignoring my tone. "You should've told me. It wouldn't look so fuckin' stupid if I'd done it."<p>

"Tell you what. Since you're so damn confident, you're gonna fix it." I replied, narrowing my eyes at him. He snorted and gave me an amused look. "Whatever you say, Princess."  
>We tossed the body, and I scowled at the other archer. "Don't call me Princess. I know where you sleep."<br>He smirked again and walked off. "Whatever. I know where you sleep too, _Princess_."

We dragged body after body, some of them going in a separate area. I'd been introduced to the survivors, or at least told who was what, but not the dead. I walked over to another guy, who was bent over a severely chewed-up corpse. "Hey."  
>He looked up, frowning. "Who the hell are you?"<br>I tipped my imaginary hat, giving a lopsided half-smile. "Deliah. I'm the new girl. T-Dog named all you folks when things calmed down. I'd shake hands, but they ain't exactly clean."  
>He nodded in response. "Alright. I'm Morales. Can ya help me for a sec?"<p>

We moved the body to the separated area, groaning at the various substances oozing onto us. I wiped my hands on the ground and looked at the man through my hair. "So, what are these doing over here?"  
>He sighed, wiping sweat off his brow. "They… were our people. The one we just carried was Carol's husband. Not a nice guy, but…"<br>I shook my head. "No one deserves this."

He nodded, looking at the growing pile of "to burn" corpses. I patted his shoulder and walked past him. "Well, at least it isn't you. I'm gonna head back to work."

More people had come out of their tents, tired of feigning sleep. The blonde, Andrea, was still stroking her deceased sister's face by the RV. Rick's wife, Lori, walked up to her and said something, getting no reaction from the girl. She walked back to the dead campfire, where Carol, Dale, and Shane were already sitting. Daryl walked right in my field of vision, smashed a corpse's brains in with his pickaxe, and walked away. Glenn & T-Dog picked it up and dragged it to the fire. I walked past the group, heading for another pile. "I hope you weren't countin' on eatin' breakfast."

I grabbed a body and started walking backwards, dragging it along. I watched Rick walk up to Andrea, the blonde pull out her gun, and the ex-cop back away in surrender. I sighed and handed the corpse over to T-Dog, then walked to a little group gathering. Carol, Dale, Daryl, Lori, Rick, and Shane were standing in a small circle, the archer gesturing towards Andrea. "Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time bomb."  
>Rick turned his attention away from the girls. "What do you suggest?"<br>Daryl walked up to him, speaking in hushed tones for once. "Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."  
>Lori spoke up from behind him. "No. For god's sake, let her be."<p>

She sat down, the rest of the group agreeing uneasily. Daryl scoffed and walked away, tapping me on the shoulder as he passed. "C'mon."  
>We walked past a dazed Jim, heading for the fire. "Wake up, Jimbo. We've got some work to do."<p>

He tapped Morales on the back and helped him drag a body toward the fire. Apparently, it was one of the group, since Glenn intervened. "What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there."  
>Daryl grunted, still moving towards the burning pile. "What's the difference? They're all infected."<br>Glenn pointed to another body site, his voice getting choked up. "Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand?"

Daryl and Morales had straightened halfway through his speech, and bent back down to change direction. Glenn pointed at the other site again. "Our people go in that row over there."  
>I held a hand up. "We got it."<br>Daryl shouted at us over his shoulder. "You reap what you sow."

Morales said something back to him, and must not have pleased the archer. Daryl dropped the body and walked off, yelling at the people around him. "Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming."

I sighed and dragged a ripe corpse to the fire, scrunching my nose at the substances oozing from it. Just when I thought I might be able to finish cleaning up in peace, some woman, Jacqui I think, started shouting. She was pointing at Jim, borderline panicking. "A walker got him. A walker bit Jim."  
>We all circled around him, his quiet words getting drowned out. "I'm okay, I'm okay."<br>Daryl stepped forward, the pickaxe back on his shoulder. "Show it to us. Show it to us!"

Jim started panicking, backing away and grabbing a shovel. People started shouting, moving towards him. T-Dog grabbed him from behind, and Daryl pulled his shirt up. A large red bite was brought to light, making both men suddenly let go of him. Jim started swaying, repeating his one sentence. "I'm okay."

He started breathing heavily, like he was about to cry. I scoffed and walked towards him, glaring at the men and women surrounding us. He started backing up again, his breathing increasing. I slowed down and held my hands up, palms open and facing him. "It's alright Jim. I'm not gonna hurt you. It's alright."  
>He nodded and let me come closer, whispering. "I'm okay…."<br>I smiled softly and gently pushed him towards the RV. "Yes you are. Come on. We'll seat you right here."  
>I got him to sit on a crate next to the back of the RV, and backed away a few steps. "Just stay here, okay? I'm gonna talk to the others and come back."<p>

He nodded, so I walked back to the group. They had re-formed not too far away, speaking in hushed tones. "What are we gonna do about him?"  
>Daryl was shifting from foot to foot, spinning his weapon. "I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it."<br>Shane looked up, his hat back on his head. "Is that what you'd want if it were you?"  
>Daryl nodded and narrowed his eyes, still swaying. "Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."<br>Dale looked around our circle, shaking his head. "I hate to say it- I never thought I would- but maybe Daryl's right."  
>I growled and crossed my arms. "No way. Even if <em>I<em>'d want to be killed, we're not doing that to Jim. Not until he turns. I mean, did you see how scared he was of you morons? Circling him like he was some kind of… beast."  
>Rick shook his head, staring at the ground. "Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog."<br>Dale looked at Rick, trying to explain. "I'm not suggesting-"  
>Rick cut him off. "He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"<br>Daryl spoke up again. "The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers. Or them to be."  
>Rick looked at him, jamming his hands in his pockets. "What if we can get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure."<br>Shane took off his hat again. "I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."  
>Rick started shifting from foot to foot. "What if the CDC is still up and running?"<br>Shane shook his head. "Man, that is a stretch right there."

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection- " Rick replied, gesturing off into the distance. Daryl shifted impatiently beside me, and Shane interrupted Rick again. "Okay, Rick, you want those things all right? I do too, okay? Now, if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."  
>Lori piped up. "That's a 100 miles in the opposite direction."<br>Shane nodded. "That's right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."  
>I watched Daryl fidget out of the corner of my eyes, Rick continuing on. "The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all <em>seen<em> that. The CDC is our best choice and Jim's only chance."  
>Daryl looked back at said man, spinning his pickaxe. "You go lookin' for aspirin, do what you need to do." He backed up and rushed Jim, weapon raised. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"<p>

I sprinted past him and got in front of Jim, bracing for impact. Rick followed, pointing a gun at Daryl's head. "Hey hey hey! We don't kill the living."  
>The archer stopped staring at me and turned to the ex-sheriff. "That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head."<br>Shane nodded from besides me, his hat back again. "We may disagree on some things, but not on this. You put it down. Go on."

Daryl stabbed his pickaxe into the ground with a grunt and walked away. I moved aside to let Rick grab Jim. "Come with me."  
>Jim stood up, visibly shaken. "Where are you taking me?"<br>Rick started walking, leading Jim along. "Somewhere safe."

I nodded at Jim, giving him my okay. Rick led him inside the RV, and the rest of the group scattered. I noticed Dale walk up to Andrea, actually getting her to talk. I let the corner of my lip twitch up, snorting a chuckle. I grabbed my pickaxe and went back to work gathering the dead. I dragged one of the raid victims over to the separate area, getting a confirmation from Glenn. Daryl was putting his own pickaxe through their skulls, probably working out some frustration. I dropped the corpse and straightened, wiping sweat from my forehead. "I already smashed that one in."  
>He pulled out his blade with a grunt. "Whatever."<p>

I pursed my lips and walked away, shaking my head. Carol walked past me, giving me a mixed look. She said something to Daryl, who handed her his pickaxe, and began sobbing as she smashed her husband's skull in. I shook my head again and walked over to Glenn, who was presiding over the body bonfire. "Any corpsecicles left?"

He shook his head, staring into the flames. He was startled out of his trance by a lone gunshot, the sound echoing in the hills.

"_I guess Blondie's sister finally woke up."_

I sighed, taking in the absolute filth covering every inch of me. Definitely time for a bath. I walked back to the RV, hollering up at Dale. "Hey! Dale! I'm gonna go wash up at the lake. Be a lookout, would ya?"  
>He tipped his hat at me. "No problem. The soap's in the bathroom cupboard."<br>I clucked my tongue and walked away. "Gotcha."

I jogged over to Big Blue, digging a duffel bag out of the backseat. Dale gave me a wave as I passed him, sitting on his chair. I returned it, sprinting down the trail. The effort felt nice, adrenaline without fear. I looked at the peaceful water, humming a familiar song. "I'm waiting to follow you."  
>I found a boulder to sit on, dropping my duffel bag on the flat surface. "I'm breathing inside of you."<br>I unlaced my combat boots and peeled off my bloody clothes, leaving my high-backed tanktop on. "It's time to..."  
>I sprinted off the beach and dove into the water, one last line leaving my lips. "Try again."<p>

I looked at the fish through the dark red water swirling around me.

"_Bloody water. Close my eyes."_

And so I did, letting myself rise to the surface.

"_I float away."_

I re-opened my eyes as my face broke the surface, taking a deep breath. "Passing places I know I can't stay. Dress me up and paint my cheeks. Stand in line pretending you love me."

I started scrubbing and scratching my skin, kicking my feet to stay afloat. I mumbled the lyrics, humming lightly. "Tomorrow is on now. Is someone here?"

A stone landed in front of me with a dull splash.

"_Huh. Will you look at that. I guess someone is."_

I looked to my left, my eyes meeting with Daryl's. "The hell do you want?"  
>He shrugged, leaning on his pickaxe. "Dale told me you were down here. We need help wrappin' the bodies."<p>

I rolled my eyes. "And it didn't occur to you I might be bathin'?" I looked him over, raising an eyebrow. "Actually, I take that back. Don't look like you've taken one yourself since the world went to shit."  
>He narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah?"<br>I crossed my arms and smirked. "Yeah. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

I dove down before he could respond, continuing the song in my head.

"_Bloody water. Close my eyes, I float away. Passing places I know I can't stay."_

I reached the bottom of the lake, scooping up a rock worn smooth by the tides.

"_Bloody water."_

Something broke the water above me, creating a tornado of bubbles.

"_Close my eyes. I floa-HOLY SHIT"_

I kicked away and stuck my head out of the water, gasping for air. Daryl came up a second later, his hair plastered to his face. "Get back here!"  
>I kicked away, laughing at his appearance. "No way in hell. But hey, at least you're clean now!"<p>

He roared and lurched forward. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you!"

I dove down, evading him.

"_Okay. He's pissed. Might've pushed him a bit too far."_

I got out of the water, jogging to my bag. I had just picked it up when I got tackled back into the lake. I resurfaced, coughing and gagging. "What the hell did you do that for?!"  
>Daryl surfaced a few seconds later, mad as all hell. "Don't fuckin' mock me!"<p>

He then pushed me back under. I took a mouthful of water, breathing some in. I knew what to do, but my body refused to respond. My lungs kept trying to inhale, taking in more water, and I began choking. My brain started getting fuzzy, the edges of my vision darkening.

"_Would you look at that. I'm drowning."_

I felt myself get dragged, and cool air hit my skin. Still, no breath passed my lips. I was sat up and my ribs pressed against to expel the water. My eyes flew open and I bent forward to cough out the liquid, my nose and throat burning. I wiped my mouth and stood up shakily. "Jesus, you could've just told me to stop."  
>I reached over and pulled a towel from my bag before calling out to Daryl's retreating back. "Sorry for teasin' ya, by the way."<br>He turned around, his belt and shirt in hand. "Why the hell are _you_ sorry?! I'm the one who almost fuckin' killed you!"

I pulled out another towel and picked up the dirtied clothes before slinging the bag over my shoulder. I dropped the extra towel on Daryl's head as I walked past him. "But you didn't. Alright? My fault for poking the bear." I flashed him a small smile. "Leave the towel on my car when you're dry, 'kay?"  
>I walked back to camp and headed for the RV. I stopped at the door, shouting up at Dale. "Hey, weren't you supposed to watch my back?"<br>He looked down, eyes wide. "I was!"  
>I nodded, cocking my hips to the side. "Mhm. And that's why Daryl almost drowned me."<br>He took off his hat, rubbing his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to do? There was no stopping him, and I couldn't exactly shoot him."  
>I rolled my eyes and stepped inside. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Goddamn backwoods archer."<p>

I shut the bathroom door behind me and peeled off my bathing suit, wrapping the towel around me. I dropped the soaked and dirty cloth in the sink and fished out another set. I put it on, adjusting the straps, and dug out more clothes. A camo tank top, a blue plaid button-down, grey jeans, and my trusty combat boots. All I ever wore nowadays.  
>I pulled the hunting knife off of my old jeans and strapped it to my belt, then bundled up the clothes and stuffed them in a plastic bag at the bottom of my duffel. We couldn't really afford to throw away clothing anymore, even if it was completely covered in muck. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and sighed. Wide green eyes stared back at me, the bright spark of survival covering up anything that might've been lurking beneath. I scoffed and turned away, walking out of the RV and heading for my truck. A familiar towel was folded on the hood, a small green thing resting on it. I picked up the stone, turning it over in my hand.<p>

"_Is that…"_

I searched around camp for Daryl, finding him cleaning his arrows by the dead campfire. He looked up briefly, turning away as soon as his eyes met mine. I frowned and put the towel away, dropping the whole duffel on Big Blue's backseat.

"_Why did he… Ugh! He's a dick one minute and somewhat likeable then next. Pick a mood and stick to it, would ya?!"_

I turned just as Morales walked over to Daryl, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. Daryl shrugged and got up, walking straight for me. "C'mon. We're movin' the bodies."

We walked to his truck, and drove the short distance to the now-wrapped bodies. We hopped out and loaded them onto the truck bed, piling them up carefully. Daryl clapped me on the back when the last on was loaded, and hopped back into his truck. "You sit back there and make sure we don't lose any on the way."

I gave him a thumb up and seated myself, an arm over the side with one leg hanging off the edge. He checked in his mirror before starting the truck and driving up the bumpy road to our makeshift graveyard. It came to a screeching halt when we reached it, Daryl jumping out first. I stayed where I was, starting to pull a body off the pile. He walked over to Rick, looking at the holes. "I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"

Shane looked up briefly, as the rest of the group was beginning to arrive. "At first."  
>Daryl shifted, looking between the two men. "The chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here. What the rules are."<br>Rick looked up, his shirt drenched with sweat. "There are no rules."  
>Lori piped up, giving me a brief look. "Well that's a problem. We haven't had one minute to hold on to anything of our old selves."<p>

I closed my eyes, digging my nails into the cloth-covered flesh.

"_Sometimes, it's better to forget our old selves. To forget the past."_

Lori continued shaking her head. "We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do."  
>I reopened my eyes and whispered quietly. "Some of us aren't people anymore. And I'm not talking about the zeds."<p>

I pulled the first corpse off the truck, turning my body so it lay on my back. I slowly made my way to the first grave and walked in, letting go of the body progressively. I walked back out and headed for the truck, where Daryl was already getting another one. I grabbed the feet and we dropped it in a second grave, on and on until only Andrea's sister remained. I made a move to grab her, but Andrea stopped me. "I-I wanna do it. She's my sister."

I pulled the body off and gave it to her bridal style. She staggered to the last grave, Dale following. She put her sister's feet down first, just outside of the hole, and lowered herself in with the head. Dale moved to help, but Andrea shook her head. "I can do it. I can do it."

Dale helped with the feet anyway, watching her sadly. She adjusted her sister in her grave, and took Dale's hand up. Lori let out a whimper, setting her head on her husband's shoulder. People began leaving, Shane and Morales staying behind to fill up the holes. Daryl went to do something with his truck, so I jogged after Carol's little girl, Sophia. "Hey, Sophia!"

Carol turned, startled, and put a possessive hand on her daughter. I knelt down in front of her and pulled the stone from my pocket. "I found this in the lake. I think it's pretty, what about you?"

She nodded, clutching her mother's shirt. I grinned, holding it out to her. "Do you want it? I'm not going to do anything with it."

The stone rolled around in my palm, shining and shimmering in the sun. Its color had dulled once dried, but it was still a vivid green. She nodded and hesitantly took it from me. I straightened and smiled down at her. "A pretty rock for a pretty girl. Take good care of it, okay?"

She nodded happily and smiled back. I nodded at her mother and they continued down the hill. I walked back to camp and to a large bucket of semi-clean water we'd used for cooking. I scrubbed my hands and rubbed some on my face and neck, watching the droplets roll off my nose back into the bucket. I slicked my hair back and plopped down on a log, stretching my legs out in front of me. Rick, Lori, Shane and Dale were talking outside the RV, probably discussing our next destination. They separated soon enough, Lori staying behind. The other three went to the woods to scout out zeds and potential meals, dragging Daryl along. I got up and grabbed "my" shotgun out of Big Blue and some shells, then went to lie down in the sun on top of the RV.  
>The men came back a bit later, when nearly everyone was around the campfire. They joined in, so I climbed down and did the same. Shane spoke first, sitting in the open half of the circle. "I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no- there are no guarantees either way, I'll be the first to admit that. I've known this man for a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"<br>I saluted like the little soldier I was and walked off. "Aye aye, captain..."

Everyone started packing, Lori and Carol setting up lunch. I gave Rick and Glenn their bags back and went to help empty out the… _recently vacated_ tents, sorting the supplies into piles. We pulled down some of the tents and piled up the torn or bloody ones to the side. There was some bold talk about re-shaping them into tarps, but none of us had the time or supplies to do so. Instead, I grabbed Glenn and my new friend Morales, and roped them into combing the ground for stray items. I found the handgun I had tossed the previous night and stuck it in the back of my jeans. I also found a pot and three bean cans under a bush, and gave those to our improvised lunch ladies. Glenn came back with a pair of scissors and a backpack, and Morales found an arm.  
>We tossed the limb into the coals of the bone bonfire, and went to grab some lunch. We each got a small plate of beans and leftover fish, then went on our way. Dale grabbed me as I passed him, his head in the RV's motor. "Deliah, I, uh, seem to have left one of my wrenches on the roof. Could you go get it? I have to keep my hands on this, or I'd go get it myself."<br>I shrugged and walked to the ladder. "Sure."

I climbed up and picked up the requested wrench. Something in the lake caught my eye as I straightened. I picked up the binoculars and smirked. Sure enough, there was Daryl. Hunched over and soaking wet, wiping off the dirt and sweat from his stroll in the woods. I jumped down, not bothering to use the ladder, and handed Dale his tool. "Here. Now if you don't mind, I have a revenge to take."

He looked at me questioningly, but didn't object. I grabbed a towel hanging from a laundry line, and headed for the lake. Years of hunting kicked in, footsteps near silent. I made it to his stuff undetected, and dropped the towel on top of it. His back was to me, long purple bruises marring the pale skin and coloring the flesh under his tattoo. Several scars ran across his back as well, angry raised marks, and all thoughts of revenge went out the window. "Where the hell'd you get those bruises? I know fresh injuries when I see 'em."  
>He whirled around, eyes wide. "What the fuck- Oh. It's <em>you<em>. What the hell'd you want?"

There were a few more scars on the upper part of his chest, the worse being below his right collarbone, and several other bruises. I put a hand on my hip, raising an eyebrow. "Well, honestly, I planned to get you back for earlier. But seriously, where'd you get 'em bruises?"  
>He paused, running a hand through his dripping hair. "When those assholes took Glenn… One of 'em had a metal bat."<br>Both my eyebrows went up in disbelief. "Metal bat? Shit… I've used some of those before. Did ya check for busted ribs?"  
>He got his shirt out of the water and wrung some of it out. "No, and they ain't. I'd feel it."<br>I shrugged and turned to walk back to camp. "Not always, I know from experience. I'm gonna go see if Dale needs anythin'. Don't poke a lung while I'm gone."  
>He called out, making me pause mid-step. "Tell anyone, you're dead!"<br>I looked over my shoulder, a knowing half-smile on my face. "Tell 'em what?"

He nodded, and I headed back to camp. The men were crowded around Big Blue, discussing something amongst themselves. I ran up to them, yelling angrily. "Hey, hey, HEY! What the hell you doin' to my truck?!"  
>Dale pointed at me. "Why don't you ask her?"<br>Shane removed his hat and rubbed his head. "Yeah… Uh… Deliah, we need gas and oil for the other trucks."  
>I crossed my arms and glared at him. "So you were just gonna take it? I should kick your ass and keep my shit."<p>

I pushed past them and grabbed a gasoline jug and funnel before slipping under my truck. I peeled the ducktape from the gas tank and unscrewed the cap underneath, holding the funnel-equipped jug underneath. Yellowish liquid started flowing out, filling the air with its recognizable smell. I waited until the dripping stopped and recapped it, folding the tape back over it. I stood up and closed the jug, slamming it into Shane's chest. "Here. Take it."

I grabbed a smaller, filled jug hand-labeled _"Oil/Petr_ó_leo"_ in a messy scrawl and passed it to Rick. "That's all you're gettin'. My spare tire wouldn't fit any of _your_ cars, and I ain't got anythin' else to give. Now get out of here."

They did, Rick thanking me and Dale muttering "I told you so" in Shane's direction. I sighed and pulled out a rolled tarp, spreading it over the entire truck. I hooked it at the back, tying the straps underneath until the passenger door. I walked to the front after that and folded it back to leave the cabin exposed. The guys had already taken care of the other cars, so all we had left to do was wait. I lent a hand with dinner, going a few minutes into the woods to scout for squirrels. I came back with a couple, scrawny young things with barely any meat. Daryl stopped me as soon as I set foot in camp, glaring at my kills. "You were out _maybe_ an hour. Took me days to get half a dozen. What's your tick?"  
>I raised an eyebrow. "<em>Tick? <em>I don't have a tick. But I did learn a simple little _trick_ from this ex-ranger. Maybe I'll even show it to ya. But not now, we got things to stew."

Squirrels stewed, mushroom roasted, jokes flew, and we all went to bed a little happier that night. I slipped into my truck, and squeezed into the backseat from the front. My legs were too long for me to stretch out, but it was better than nothing. I let out a long sigh and let my hand slip down. My fingertips brushed against something. A stiff object covered in cloth. I frowned and picked it up. In the moonlight, I recognized the bloodstained blue bandana wrapped around Merle's hand.

"_Must've fallen out of Glenn's pack…"_

I stared at it a while, and got out of my car. I grabbed a shovel from a bag behind the RV and headed for the makeshift cemetery. The graves now all had stones, and sometimes even items, at the head. I dug a small hole near the others, and placed the hand inside. "I didn't like you, and have a feeling few people do. But Daryl does, and you deserve a proper burial. Well… As proper as a coffin-less burial of a limb on non-sacred ground can get. If you died, I wish your soul the best of luck. If you didn't… I hope you'll meet up with us someday. For your brother's sake."

I covered it back up and placed a small stone on the mound. The thought to make one for my partner crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. Not like I had anything of hers to bury anyway. I gave Merle Dixon's grave a parting nod and walked back to camp, putting the shovel back in place. I hopped back into my truck and closed the door. I heard footsteps outside; but their pace was regular, without the telltale shuffling. I cocked my handgun, setting it on the floor besides me, and threw an arm over my eyes. I was out within seconds.

Tents unzipping and hushed conversations woke me up the next day, followed by the bright Atlanta sunrise. I picked up my gun, clicked back the hammer, and put it in the back of my jeans. A quick change of shirts from blue to yellow later, and I climbed out of Big Blue. I grabbed a short breakfast from Lori, and got both of my bags out to the RV. Dale greeted me, stuffing an impressive bed-head under his hat. "'Morning. What can I do for you?"  
>I swallowed a mouthful of canned peaches before answering. "Bags. Can you keep 'em 'til we get to the CDC?"<br>He nodded and motioned towards the door, walking towards the promise of breakfast. "Put them wherever. I'll take care of the rest."

I gave him a thumb up, sticking my head in just long enough to toss my bags under the table and set my bow on top. I went back to Big Blue after that, sighing. "Okay. Let's do this."

I undid the metal key from its ring, leaving the electronic one on. I locked the car, dropped the whole ring on the driver seat, and closed the door. I folded the rest of the tarp down and secured it before leaving. The key I'd removed ended up on a chain around my neck. Everyone else had already collapsed their tents, gathering around the cars. Shane snapped his fingers, hollering to get our attention. "Hey, listen up!"  
>Rick stood next to him, looking at the group. "Alright, we have to set up some kind of order. We can't all be in the same car. The RV will be first, then everyone else just follows however they are. I'll take a car with my wife and son, as well as Carol and her little girl. Dale will drive the RV with Glenn and Jacqui to tend to Jim; T-Dog, you're with Andrea, Morales you're with your family, Daryl with Deliah, and the rest of you go in the church bus."<br>Shane adjusted his hat, nodding. "I'll take my jeep. Any questions?"  
>I scowled, muttering under my breath. "Yeah, why am <em>I <em>stuck with the redneck?"  
>Daryl snorted besides me. "'Cause you're the only one who doesn't piss me off to the point where I wanna toss you out the window."<br>I shrugged, grinning. "Eh, most of the time. You'll learn soon enough."  
>Shane clapped his hands once, getting our attention again. "Alright, everyone pick a vehicle and move your bags. We ain't got all day!"<p>

Everyone started moving, bags and supplies disappearing into cars. Daryl went to haul a bike onto his truck. I followed, seeing as my stuff was already taken care of. He got in the truck bed and pulled while I pushed from the ground. "Pretty sweet bike you got there."  
>He nodded, pulling it over the edge with a grunt. "My brother's. He'd kill me if anything happened to it."<br>I straightened, wiping my hands on my pants. "Ever though about ridin' it? Less gas, more maneuvering."  
>He hopped down and secured the gate. "Not 'till my truck runs out."<p>

The group had started remerging by the time we secured it. Shane walked back to us, Rick in tow. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"  
>Morales shifted uneasily. "We're, uh… We're- we're not going."<br>We all stared at them in silence, until his wife spoke. "We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people."  
>Shane stepped forward, looking as uneasy as Morales. "You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back."<br>Morales shook his head, looking at his wife, then back at Shane. "We'll take the chance. I got to do what's best for my family."  
>Rick raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"<br>Morales and his wife nodded. "We talked about it. We're sure."  
>Rick and Shane whispered for a second, and handed Morales a gun and a box of ammo. "The box is half full."<p>

Daryl scoffed and did a frustrated 360 turn. Lori walked up to Morales' wife and hugged her, all of the women and children crying. "Thank you all… For everything."

I rolled my eyes, kicking at the dirt in boredom.

"_Damn women and their emotions. Wait… Ugh, I'm one of them, ain't I? Fuckin' estrogen, I swear."_

Shane started hollering, getting in his jeep. "Come on! Let's go. Let's move out."  
>Everyone got in their assigned cars, Daryl grabbing me by the collar. "You're comin' with me."<p>

I scowled and let myself get dragged. He tossed me into the passenger seat, getting in a second later. The RV went out first like ordered, followed by Rick and Carol's yellow car, then the church bus, Shane's jeep, our truck, then T-Dog and Andrea's. We followed the other cars out of the quarry and onto the highway, Morales' branching off.

Daryl turned to me, sticking a hand out the window. "I wanted to ask ya, why'd you defend Jim? You were ready to take the hit for 'im."  
>I sighed, resting my head against the glass. "Watch where you're drivin'… And because we all need someone to stick up for us when no one else will."<p>

I turned Big Blue's key over in my hand, staring out the window. Daryl spoke up again, keeping his eyes somewhat on the road this time. "Why'd you keep that thing? It's just a car."  
>I answered quietly. "It's the last thing I have of them. My family…"<p>

He hit the steering wheel, swearing under his breath. I sat up with another sigh, rubbing my face. "We need music in here."  
>Daryl snorted. "Stations've been down for a while. Don't ya sing?"<br>I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. "Yeah, entertained the gang and kept the kids quiet. But I never told you."  
>He smirked and shrugged. "I ain't deaf. You were singin' by the lake."<br>I raised an eyebrow, my lips quirking up into a smirk. "You mean, before you almost _drowned_ me?"  
>His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Yeah."<br>I leaned back and held up my hands in appeasement. "Sorry, sorry, touchy subject. So, I'm your radio now?"  
>He cracked a grin, shrugging. "Depends. What's on the channel?"<br>I huffed, crossing my legs. "Well… We _are_ driving…"  
>I cleared my throat, my foot moving to an imaginary beat. "Doin' all right. A little jivin' on a Saturday night. And come what may, gonna dance the day away."<p>

Unknown to me, Daryl switched on the C.B., smirking lightly. I rolled down my window, setting my arm on the edge. "Jenny was sweet. She always smiled for the people she'd meet. On trouble and strife, she had another way of looking at life. The news is blue; had it's own way to get to you. What can I do? When I remember my time with you." I frowned, certain I had heard an echo on some of those lines. "Pick up your feet; got to move to the trick of the beat. There is no elite, just take your place in the driver's seat. Driver's seat, driver's seat."

I grinned. At least three voices had completed my last line. "Doing all right. A little jiving on a Saturday night. And come what may, gonna dance the day away. Driver's seat, driver's seat. Jenny was sweet. There is no elite. Pick up your feet. Pick up, pick up. Pick up your feet, gonna dance the day away. Driver's seat, driver's seat."

I let the others finish, grinning happily. Daryl looked over and grinned back. I let out a half laugh, pointing at him. "Ah! You did that on purpose!"  
>His grin grew, looking very self-satisfied. "Cheered you up, didn't it?"<br>I crossed my arms, scoffing. "You are such a softie."  
>His grin disappeared. "Am not!"<br>I was about to retort when Shane came over the C.B. "Not to interrupt your lovers' quarrel, but keep it off the channel. We gotta keep the chatter down."  
>We both snapped at him. "We're not lovers!"<p>

I flicked the switch off, glaring out the window. A few minutes later, a thick cloud of white smoke erupted from the RV, all cars coming to a halt. I hopped out, walking to the small gathering by the smoking motor. Rick bent forward, fanning the vapor with his hat. Dale shook his head, adjusting his own cap. "I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I said I needed the one from the cube van."  
>Rick straightened and put his hat back on. "Can you jury-rig it?"<br>Dale shrugged, looking at his engine. "That's all it's been so far. It's more ducktape than hose. And I'm out of ducktape."  
>Shane called out from the other side of the RV. "I see something up ahead. A gas station if we're lucky."<br>Jacqui jumped out of the RV, her face creased in worry. "Y'all, Jim- it's bad. I don't think he can take any more."  
>She went back inside, Shane speaking after a few seconds. "Hey, Rick, you want to hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead and see what I can bring back."<br>T-Dog nodded. "Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up."  
>Shane gave the okay, putting his hat on. "Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back."<p>

We disbanded, Rick going into the RV, Shane and T-Dog climbing in the Jeep and driving away. I hopped in the RV long enough to get four rolls of tape and my bow out, and walked back to Dale. "Hey. Red, blue, camo, or classic?"  
>He looked at me, confusion practically radiating from him. "What are you talking about?"<br>I gave a half-smile. "Ducktape. Which color suits your esthetical needs?"  
>He chuckled and gave me a wide smile. "Classic will do. Glad to know that's one thing I won't have to worry about."<p>

I watched Dale patch up the hose, filing all of the information away for later use. Shane came back, shaking his head, and Rick came out of the RV. We all gathered again, waiting for the verdict. Rick ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "He wants us to leave him here. The road's killing him."  
>Carol crossed her arms uneasily. "Leave him? As in… On the side of the road? Right here?"<br>He looked down. "It's what he says he wants."  
>She frowned up at him. "And he's lucid?"<br>Rick fiddled with his hat and rubbed his face. "He seems to be. I would say yes."  
>Dale spoke up quietly when Rick finished. "Back in the camp I said Daryl might be right and you shot me down. You misunderstood. I would <em>never<em> go along with callously killing a man. I was just gonna suggest that we _ask_ Jim what he wants. And I think we have an answer."  
>Shane spoke quietly to Rick, but not quiet enough for us not to hear. "We just leave him here? We take off? Man, I'm not sure I could live with that."<br>Lori took a deep breath besides Carol. "Not your call, either one of you."

Rick nodded and went inside, Shane following reluctantly. They came back out carrying a groaning Jim, looking pale beneath his sunburns. They laid him down against a tree directly up the hill from the RV. Jim looked up at the foliage, smiling a bit. "Hey, another damn tree."  
>Shane bent down, hesitant to just leave. "Hey man- I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this."<br>Jim shook his head. "No. It's good. The breeze feels nice."

Shane sighed and finally backed away, to be replaced by Jacqui. She knelt down and smiled sadly. "Just close your eyes sweetie. Don't fight."

She kissed his cheek and walked away, fighting back tears. Rick took her place, holding out a small handgun. "Jim, do you want this?"  
>He shook his head at the ex-sheriff. "No. You'll need it. I'm okay. I'm okay."<br>Dale came up next, smiling and crouching at his feet. "Oh, hey. Thanks for, uh, for fighting for us."  
>Jim nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."<p>

Everyone left, giving Jim a last look. Daryl and I were the last, Jim smiling faintly at us. Daryl walked up a bit and gave a parting nod, then left. I climbed the small hill and sat next to him. "So, you're yellow plaid-brothers with Daryl and I today, huh?"

He chuckled, coughed, then groaned. I gave him a sad smile. "You know, we used to have a guy like you in our gang. Nice and quiet, you didn't notice him until he was gone. Most of us barely knew him, yet everyone was sad when he left."  
>Jim nodded, his breathing labored. "Yeah… Thanks for- for protecting me. You sympathized. I know- it's none of my business, but… You should talk to someone."<br>I let out a heavy sigh. "I know… I don't know how _you_ know, but I know."  
>Jim gently pushed my shoulder. "Go. Get to the CDC for me. Okay?"<br>I smiled faintly and got up. "Okay. I wish I'd had more time with you, you're a pretty cool guy. Say hi to your family for me."  
>He nodded and smiled back, getting comfortable against the trunk. "I will."<p>

I waved and slid down the hill, nearly jumping in Daryl's truck. He looked over questioningly as I slammed the door closed. I sighed and slid down in my seat. "Just drive."

He shrugged and dropped his crossbow on my stomach, starting the truck. The half-hour drive to the CDC was silent, Jim's death hanging in the air. After all, we all knew what would happen to him. We reached the large building and parked next to the sidewalk leading up to it.

"_What good citizens we are, parking in allowed spaces."_

I hopped out, bow at the ready. A shot in a city like this would bring nothing but trouble. The first things I noticed were bodies. Lots and lots of bodies. They littered the streets, flies buzzing as the flesh decomposed in the hot sun. And the smell… People started coughing as it burnt their throats, Shane leading them through the less… _crowded_ path. "All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go."

I scrunched my nose and walked around a "military checkpoint" sign, looking at the camouflage-clad bodies. I eyed one in particular, lying not too far from where we were, with a bullet hole to the forehead.

"_Even the army couldn't do anythin'. But hey, that's a nice uniform. Looks about my size too… We're already in hell, I don't think looting dead bodies will matter."_

People started gagging and scurrying, chatter picking up. "Okay, keep moving. Stay together. Keep moving. C'mon. Shh. Carol! Shh. Oh, god."

I rolled my eyes and jumped over a corpse. We reached the gates pretty quickly, Shane and Rick rattling the metal blinds. T-Dog spoke first. "There's nobody here."  
>Rick turned, starting to get agitated. "Then why are these shutters down?"<br>Daryl yelled over him. "Walkers!"

People started whimpering, Daryl turning on Rick once he shot the walker in the face. "You led us into a graveyard!"  
>Someone spoke back. "He made a call."<br>Daryl growled and kept walking forward. "It was the wrong damn call!"

Shane pushed him back, jabbing his chest and pointing in his face. "Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!" He turned to his friend next. "Rick, this is a dead end. Do you hear me?"

I walked over to the re-dead corpse and pulled out Daryl's arrow, putting it with mine.

"_Yeah. A dead end with more dead than end."_

Carol sobbed besides Lori. "Where are we gonna go?"  
>Shane walked to Rick, borderline panicking. "Do you hear me? No blame."<br>Lori shook her head, a tight grip on Carl. "She's right. We can't be here, this close to the city after dark."  
>Shane started pacing. "Fort Benning, Rick- Still an option."<br>Lori spoke again, shooting him down. "On what? No food, no fuel. That's a 100 miles."  
>Glenn added in, his voice trembling slightly. "125. I checked the map."<br>Lori ignored him, in full-blown panic. "Forget Fort Benning. We need answers _tonight, now._"  
>Rick held up a hand, trying to keep himself calm. "We'll think of something."<p>

Everyone started moving back in the direction of the cars, except for Rick and I. All of a sudden, the small security camera above the door moved with a soft whirr. Rick called out to the others, staring at the small sign of life. "The camera- it moved."  
>Someone scoffed. "You imagined it."<br>I shook my head and stepped forward. "No…"  
>Rick followed, transfixed. "It moved. It moved…"<br>Shane stepped up behind him. "It's dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on."  
>I pointed up at the camera, talking rapidly. "<em>It's not<em>. I know the model; it's a remote-controlled device for the security team inside. I've slipped past enough to know it won't move unless somethin' tells it to!"  
>Shane began pulling Rick away, T-Dog walking towards me. "It's winding down! Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick!"<br>I shouted above the rest, evading T-Dog. "It looked right at us! There's someone in there! They're alive!"

Everyone started shouting over each other, Rick banging on the metal blinds. He pleaded at the man behind the camera, even when the others left and Lori began pushing him back. Shane finally grabbed Rick and dragged him away, still yelling at the camera. I stared at the camera's eye and clenched my fist tightly, practically screaming. "Please! _They can't lose any more people!_"

The door screeched open, blinding light spilling out. I sighed in relief, closing my eyes. "Thank you."

* * *

><p><em>How's that for a speedy update?<br>__I'll try to finish editing Ch.3 by next weekend, but Ch.4 hasn't been written yet soooo... That'll be in a while._

_By the way, this will have more and more free-written scenes as time goes on. I'm just kind of forced to follow plot at this point._


	3. TS-19 Got Drunk, And so Did we

**Deadman Wonderland  
>Ch. 3<strong>

**TS-19 Got Drunk, And so Did we.**

We ran in, guns at the ready. Shane turned his head just long enough to shout orders, right behind Rick. "Daryl, you cover the back. Deliah, back him up."

We both nodded, stopping and turning. Shane lowered his gun to holler into the empty building. "Hello? Hello?"  
>Rick shot a glance behind him. "Close those doors"<br>Dale passed by me, putting his gun down. "Watch for walkers."

I nodded, my attention focused on the doorway behind Daryl. The others looked around the lobby, bewilderment and adrenaline reflected in their faces. Another "hello" echoed, followed by the cocking of a gun. We all followed the motion, and I glanced behind me. A man was standing in the shadows, gun at the ready. "Anybody infected?"  
>Rick lowered his gun slightly, just enough to talk. "One of our group was. He didn't make it."<br>The man stepped forward. "Why are you here? What do you want?"  
>Rick took a shaky breath before answering. "A chance."<br>The man took a few more unsure steps forward. "That's asking an awful lot these days."  
>Rick sighed. "I know."<p>

Several seconds passed in silence, the only sound being our group's ragged breathing. Then the man stepped forward. "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that." Rick replied with a nod. The man lowered his gun completely, pointing at the door Daryl and I were guarding. "You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed."

We all ran out, Rick staying behind to make sure we weren't "accidentally" locked out. I hauled my bags out of the RV, but paused by the corpse I'd seen earlier before going in. I set my bag down and pulled out my knife, cutting the laces on the boots. Those came off, then the pants. I quickly check to see if they were indeed the correct size, then ran back into the building. Lori and Carol followed, bags in one hand and child in the other. Dale and T-Dog pulled the doors shut, and the man swiped his card. "VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."

The metal curtain came down, and the scanner beeped. Rick extended a hand towards the man. "Rick Grimes."  
>The man looked at him, his eyes shifting. "Doctor Erwin Jenner."<p>

He motioned for us to follow him, and opened an elevator at the end of the hall. "It's... uh… pretty small in there. Just- just try to keep your hands to yourself. Or check who you're grabbing. I… Uh… I'm gonna stop talking now."  
>Rick nodded, taking his hat off. "That might be wise."<p>

We all crammed into the elevator, feeling somewhat awkward. Daryl spoke up from his corner behind me, shotgun in one hand, empty crossbow in the other. "Doctors always go around packing heat like that?"  
>I snorted and muttered back at him. "The ones <em>I<em> hung around with did."

Jenner turned to face us, a tentative smile on his face. "There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself. But you look harmless enough." He looked down at Carl, the smile growing. "Except you. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. We all filed out, following Jenner down the hall. Carol spoke up, walking ahead of us. "Are we underground?"  
>Jenner looked back and raised an eyebrow. "Are you claustrophobic?"<br>Carol shifted her bag, Jacqui putting a hand on her shoulder. "A little."  
>The man turned the right way again. "Try not to think about it."<br>We walked for a few more seconds before Jenner spoke up. "VI, bring up the lights in the big room."

We paused as a large circle of light illuminated a cluster of computers. A second passed before Jenner began walking again. "Welcome to Zone 5."  
>Rick followed him, a confused frown probably marring his face. "Where is everyone? The other doctors, the staff?"<br>Jenner stood in the center of the computers, and we paused at the edge. "I'm it. It's just me here."  
>Lori interjected. "What about the person you were speaking with? VI?"<br>The doctor sighed. "VI, say hello to our guests. Tell them… Welcome."  
>A voice echoed through the room. "Hello, guests. Welcome."<br>Jenner swallowed thickly before continuing. "I'm all that's left. I'm sorry."  
>He retrieved a tray of tubes and a box of syringes from a shelf, waving us off into the hallway. "VI, turn off the power in here."<p>

The lights went out, and the doctor followed us. He squeezed past our group, ducking into a room a few doors down. "VI, bring up the lights in the auditorium."

Lights flickered on, and Jenner put his parcels on the table. He waved us off to the chairs in the stairs, starting to pull out his equipment. "Alright, just come down one at a time."

Rick went up first, rolling up his sleeve. I got busy emptying my new pants' pockets, taking a short inventory. Daryl clapped me on the back when he was done, rolling his sleeve down over a patch of gauze. "Your turn, Princess."  
>I narrowed my eyes, putting down my stuff on the next seat. "I know, Jackass."<p>

He snorted, walking to the highest seat. I jumped down the few steps to Jenner's small table, pushing up my sleeve. He swiped the crook of my elbow with an alcohol pad, a stuck the needle straight in. I twitched, making a point to look at leftover posters on the wall. He removed it, stuck a small patch of gauze on, and put the test tube away. "Thank you. Send someone else down."

I walked back up, jerking my head at Jacqui. She and Andrea went down, one helping the other. She got hers done quickly, surrendering her place to the blonde. Andrea sighed. "What's the point? If we were infected, we'd all be running a fever."  
>Jenner looked up at her. "I've already broken every rule in the book letting you in here. Let me just at least be thorough."<br>He removed the syringe, tubes clinking. "All done."

Jacqui steadied Andrea as she got up, scanning her face. Jenner frowned at the two. "Something wrong?"  
>Jacqui just looked at him. "She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have."<p>

He sat there for a second, his eyes flickering to our faces. "Let me drop these off at the lab. I'll come back in a few minutes, bring you down to the cafeteria."

I stuffed my loot into my bags, picking a couple arrows out of my bow's quiver. I leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and stopped in front of Daryl. He looked over, raising an eyebrow. "The hell d'you want?"  
>I rolled my eyes, sticking the arrows feather-first at him. "To return these. I can't shoot crossbow bolts. Too short."<br>He gingerly took them, sliding the smooth cylinders out of my hand. "Thanks… I guess…"  
>I snorted and hopped down to my seat. "A+ social skills right there."<p>

Jenner came back a few seconds later, motioning for us to follow. He brought us down the hallway, heading up the stairs opposite the elevator. They led us to a large cafeteria, with kitchen attached. We set our stuff down by the entrance, waiting for further instructions. The doctor awkwardly motioned at the table, heading for the kitchen area. "I'll get the things, you just… Chill."

Shrugging, T-Dog, Glenn, and Dale started pushing tables together, stacking the unused chairs around us. We all took a seat around the newly formed table, not including Daryl. He sat to my left, on the counter behind T-Dog, a gun down the front of his pants. I raised an eyebrow, eyeing the weapon, but keeping my voice low. "Ya might wanna move that. You know, _before_ you shoot your dick off."  
>Daryl leaned forward, his tone somewhere between sarcastic and mocking. "Why d'you care? Unless ya-"<p>

Jenner, coming back with a few wine bottles, cut off his reply. "We've got chicken and broccoli and noodles in the oven. Premade, sorry. Hopefully, these'll be a little better."

He handed two bottles to people, putting the last two on the table. He added a little tray of cashews, smiling lightly at us. The bottle was about 2/3 done by the time it got to me, and Daryl didn't bother with a glass. T-Dog rolled his eyes, reaching for a new one. We chatted idly, passing the snacks around, until a loud beeping sounded from the kitchen. Jenner and Jacqui got up, bringing the streaming silver trays back. I got up to grab plates from the counter, Jacqui reaching back for the utensils. We quickly passed them around, and dinner was served.

Dale had taken to pouring wine to everyone within reach, now hovering over Lori's glass. "Just one little glass. Just for the toast. You don't even have to drink it."  
>I groaned, leaning back on my chair. "C'mon, Lori! Loosen up, just for tonight. We're celebrating! Life of the party!"<br>Dale and the others chuckled, looking at the brunette. "She has a point, you know."  
>Lori sighed, waving him off. "Fine."<br>Dale laughed and started pouring her wine. "You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France."  
>Lori took her glass, looking at her son. "Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then."<br>Rick leaned over, grinning. "What's it gonna hurt? Come on. Come on."

Dale laughed, and we joined in at Lori's little "what". He handed Carl a regular glass with a bit of the red liquid in it. "There you are young lad."  
>Carl took a sip and recoiled, making a face. "Ew… That tastes nasty."<p>

We all laughed again, and Lori poured the rest in her glass. Shane grinned at him. "Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud."  
>Daryl got up, his bottle probably empty. "Not you Glenn."<br>Glenn looked up, a big grin on his face. "What?"  
>Daryl emptied the end of a nearby bottle into a glass, grinning mockingly. "Keep drinkin' little man. I wanna see how red your face can get."<p>

The men and I laughed again, the girls not as impressed. Rick clinked his glass, standing up. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly."

"He's more than just our host." T-Dog added, his words already slurring. We raised our glassed happily. "Hear, hear!"

Daryl raised a whole bottle, pink starting to spread across his face. "Here's to you, Doc. Booyah!"  
>I grabbed a bottle and clanked it with his. "Booyah!"<p>

T-Dog clinked his glass with us next, adding his own, followed by Glenn. Shane looked over to our host, abnormally somber. "So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here Doc? All the- All the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"  
>Rick sighed and sat down. "We're celebrating, Shane. Don't need to do this now."<br>Shane held up a hand. "Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move- Supposed to find all the answers. Instead we-"  
>He chuckled and pointed at Jenner. "We found him. Found one man. Why?"<br>The doctor looked down. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."  
>Shane got comfortable, looking very satisfied. "Every last one?"<br>Jenner straightened, all of his anger and disgust directed towards the other man. "No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They… _Opted _out." Everyone got quiet, uncomfortable, but he continued. "There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."  
>Andrea looked up at him. "You didn't leave. Why?"<br>Jenner looked back, his anger gone. "I just kept working, hoping to do some good."  
>Glenn walked back to his seat, glaring at Shane. "Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man."<br>I took a swig from a bottle, leaning back in my chair, and sung loudly. "Every party needs a pooper, that's why we invited you. Party pooper, party pooper; Shane Waaaaalsh."

The four men from the Atlanta rescue chuckled, grinning at each other. The doctor clapped his hands, standing up. "Alright, alright. Sober up, guys. I need to show you where you'll be sleeping."  
>I put my bottle down, getting up. "Sober up my ass. I'll <em>finish<em> getting drunk when you're done."  
>He held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, just follow me then."<br>He led us out, back into the hallway, and a little ways down before gesturing at the rooms. "Most of the facility is powered down, including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. I believe a couple of them might pull out, but don't ask me which. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the videogames, okay? Or anything that draws power. The same applies-" He turned to look at us, wagging his finger. "If you shower, go easy on the hot water."  
>Glenn turned, eyes wide. "Hot water?"<br>T-Dog laughed next to him. "That's what the man said."  
>The doctor chuckled as the two ran down the hall, the rest of us following at a slower pace. "You can follow down the hallway to get back to the main room. I'll be back there if you need me." He walked away, sighing under his breath. "Please don't need me…"<p>

We all stopped and claimed a room as we went, dropping our bags down. Rick claimed one for his family, then Carol and her daughter, T-Dog and Jacqui, Dale and Glenn, and Andrea took the smallest one to be alone. Shane claimed an armchair in the rec room. That left one room, Daryl and I eyeing each other. "That's mine."

He shook his head. "Hell no. I was here first."  
>I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Uh huh. What happened to ladies first?"<br>He smirked, setting his stuff down by the couch. "Ya'd have to be a lady."  
>I rolled my eyes, letting my bag fall off my shoulder. "Right. Come on, I'd have to be with Carol and her daughter. Go room with the guys."<br>He seemed to consider this for a moment, then gave me the widest shit-eating grin I'd ever seen. "Nah."  
>I scowled in return. "I ain't goin' anywhere."<br>He flopped down on the couch, resting his hands on his stomach. "Suit yourself."

I stayed silent a few seconds, glaring down at the man. He wiggled into the cushions, making a show out of being comfortable. I sighed and let my arms fall. "Fine. Get off, I wanna see if it pulls out." I bent down to grab the edge, muttering under my breath. "You best pray it does."

He got up with a low chuckle, and we successfully deployed the mattress. Dale popped his head in, a slightly breathless smile on his face. "Hi there! We're moving cots in, do you guys need one?"  
>My companion and I looked at each other, shrugging. "Don't think so."<br>"Eh, we'll keep one for you anyway." He replied, and ducked out into the hallway. I swiped a book from a nearby shelf and plopped down on the couch-turned-bed. I curled up by the headboard, resting my back against the armrest. Daryl flopped down in the free space, checking over his weaponry. The shower was in near-constant use, one grimy survivor after the other. Shane stomped by, bottle in hand, and didn't re-appear for over an hour. Five pages into a new chapter, I felt something tug at my hair. I turned to see Daryl pulling at a strand, knife in hand. "What are you doin?"  
>He looked up from his task. "You told me to fix it. So I'm fixin' it."<br>I raised an eyebrow, setting down my book. "Why?"  
>He shrugged, avoiding my gaze. "Bored."<br>I stood up, my hair slipping out of his fingers. "Didn't think you'd actually do it. C'mon, we should do this in the bathroom."  
>He shrugged and closed the blade. "Don't matter to me."<p>

I grabbed a stool from Lori's room and headed across the hall to the bathroom. We passed a freshly showered Dale and a rather drunk Rick; a bottle in the latter's hand. I chuckled and waved, opening the door and set the seat down in front of the sink. I plopped down in it and turned towards Daryl. "All yours."  
>He set his knife on the edge of the sink, then opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out a small pair of scissors and a comb. "Shut up, don't move, and let me do whatever."<br>I managed to stay quiet for about five minutes. "Where'd you learn this?"  
>He sighed in aggravation and snipped another stand, the dark curl falling in the sink. "Myself. Father never did shit, and Merle ain't no damn hairdresser."<br>I hummed quietly. "The Nutcracker did it for most of us."  
>I could practically hear him raise an eyebrow. "The <em>nutcracker<em>?"  
>I chuckled lightly at his tone. "Yeah. Busted skulls just as well as he cut hair. Kinda the big brother of the clan."<br>He grunted and jabbed me with the comb. "Head down."

He finished soon enough, tossing his tools in the sink and walking out without a word. I hopped off the stool and fished out the scissors and comb, then turned the water on to rinse them off. I put the scissor back in the mirror cupboard and stuck my head under the faucet, combing the short strands. I just stood there for a few seconds, enjoying what was now a luxury, before shutting off the water and straightening. It immediately started running down my neck, thoroughly soaking my shirt. I swore rather loudly and scrambled out of the cold fabric sticking to my skin. Grabbing a towel, I violently mussed my hair in an effort to dry it. I tossed it over the edge of the mirror and raked the tangled mess into order, tucking it behind my ears. I moved my head from side to side, admiring Daryl's handiwork.

"_Eh... I guess it does look better."_

The short strands stayed free, either falling into my face or slicked back by the leftover water. Speaking of water, I grabbed my soaked shirt and started wringing the collar over the sink. A small sound behind me made me look up to the mirror, just in time for Daryl to waltz in and stop in his tracks. "Err... My knife."  
>I grabbed it and turned, tossing it to its owner. "Yeah. Um... It's a little wet. Might wanna dry it before it rusts."<p>

He caught it and left immediately, without speaking a word. I swore quietly and stuck the comb back into the cabinet before walking back to our room. I tossed my shirt over the side of the bed and flopped down on the mattress, letting out a long breath.

"_Shit… He knows what those are."_

I stayed like that for about five minutes, before picking up my shirt and walking out. Daryl was sitting at the since-cleared dinner table, working over an unopened bottle. I snatched the rest of one off of the table, and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I know what you saw."  
>He replied without looking. "Hm? And what's that?"<br>I took a swig "My tattoo's coverin' up pretty messed up scars too. Guess we're even now, huh?"  
>He shrugged, popping the cork off. "Yeah. Well, I ain't gonna ask and I ain't gonna tell. Long as ya don't."<br>I nodded and jerked my thumb toward the cupboards. "_Muchas gracias amigo_. Now c'mon, I know where Doc hides the good stuff."

He got up, leaving his bottle, and followed me. I'd noted where Jenner had taken the bottles from, one of the only cabinets to have a lock. Daryl yanked on it, the lock in question rattling. "Fuckin' locked, man. What the hell?"  
>I chuckled, pulling a small flat pouch from my thigh pocket. "No worries."<p>

I slid two thin picks out, and crouched on top of the counter. I slipped one in, pushing the tumblers up, and used the other one to rotate the lock. Back and forth, back and forth, until it clicked and the door swung open. I grinned and hopped down, grabbing half a dozen bottles. "Jackpot!"  
>Daryl grabbed a few more, raising an eyebrow. "Where'd you learn to do that?"<br>A self-satisfied smirk appeared as I sat on the counter. "Honey, you don't spend years in a gang without picking a few things up."  
>He shook his head, chuckling. "You get more interesting every time I talk to ya."<br>I bowed, hair flopping forward. "Thank you, thank you. I aim to please."  
>He snorted, flopping down in a chair. "C'mon, Princess. Get some booze in your system, then we'll talk."<p>

I popped one open, draining half of it in one go. The liquid burned down my throat and warmed my stomach, making my head hum. "Yes, sir!"  
>We both chuckled, and I swung my legs over to the other side of the counter. "Well? Don't leave me hangin'! Drink up, backwoods boy!"<br>He popped his own and chugged, raising an eyebrow. "Backwoods boy?"  
>I grinned widely, lazily waving my bottle at him. "To each their own nicknames. Or did you prefer Jackass?"<br>He snorted, mumbling something around the line of "lame". I chuckled, resting one foot on the opposite leg. "I got somethin' to ask you."  
>He took a seat raising a eyebrow. "Shoot."<br>"When we were in the truck on the way here…" I started. "You hit your steerin' wheel. Why'd you do that?"  
>He groaned, rubbing his face. "'Cause I kept sayin' the wrong thing. Makin' you upset when I was tryin' to distract ya."<br>I grinned, leaning back. "That's actually kinda nice. Don't worry 'bout it, dumbass. 'Tis the thought that counts."  
>He glared at me. "Who said I was worried?"<br>I rolled my eyes and hopped off, staggering a bit. "I'm gonna go get a bag. Don't die while I'm gone."

I walked out, albeit a bit unsteady, muttering about how that'd be inconvenient. I went back to our designated room, and grabbed my "junk" backpack. It wasn't all that big, but definitely had enough room to fit a few bottles. I heard a door slam down the hall, towards the rec room. I was already too buzzed to care, though just barely, even when the muffled sounds of fighting came up. I muttered to myself, pulling on my backpack and swaying back to the kitchen. "Pro'bly Shane being a fuckin' cunt shit ass-eatin' twat-faced asshat prick motherfucking two-toned moronic-"  
>A red-faced Glenn turned to me, a giddy grin behind his wet hair. "Whoa there. Did he-" He paused to giggle, turning in his chair. "Did he try to make you his woman?"<br>I snorted, furrowing my brows. "What? Yo, chinaman, you're drunker than I am."  
>He emptied his glass, turning as I walked around him. "No no no no no, but, like, he made Lori his woman. Fed her some bullshit line about- hic -Rick being dead. They thought nobody knew. But I- I knew! And Dale, and Amy, and Jim, a-and Morales. We all knew! So if he asks, you say no. You say no!"<br>Daryl and I exchanged amused glances. I patted his shoulder, grabbing the nearest filled bottle. "Don't worry little man. I get bad vibes from 'im. I'll bet y'all a case of beer he's gonna go all Dorothy on our asses."  
>Daryl raised an eyebrow. "I get the bad vibes, but what the hell's a Dorothy?"<br>I shook my head, tipping my bottle back. "Too long a story."  
>T-Dog came in then, a towel around his neck. "Heeey! Bottoms up, girl!"<br>I laughed and tipped my head back, gulping down the crimson liquid. At least, I think it was. I wasn't paying that much attention. Some of it spilled, dripping down my neck and into my shirt. I set the bottle down hard, laughing gleefully. "You're on, brother!"  
>Daryl laughed back, pointing at me. "Hey, you got some of it on ya."<br>I wiped my mouth, still grinning. "Where?"  
>His grin widened and he set himself in front of me, one hand on either sides of my legs and that stupid face of his barely an inch from mine. "Right o'er here."<p>

He ducked under my jaw, licking and nipping at the thin ribbons of wine drying down my throat. I shoved him off, laughing madly. "Knock it off, doofus. Don't be bitin' if we ain't screwin'!"  
>T-Dog chuckled, uncorking yet another bottle. "Ooh, you tell 'im girl."<br>Daryl snorted, grabbing his half-empty jug. "It sounds like yer challengin' me."  
>I smirked, kicking my feet. "Maybe I am."<br>T-Dog took a swing, holding up a finger. "Whoa, hey- hold up—damn this is a good bottle—if you guys wanna do it, ya let me know so I can get outta here."  
>I laughed, swiping Daryl's bottle from him. "Free porno, dude. But <em>I like a challenge.<em>"  
>He grabbed it back, pointing a finger at me. "Oh it's on, Princess!"<br>Glenn spoke up from his facedown slouch on the table. "She's the Queen, and you're her throne. Save a horse, ride a cow-hic-boy. Yeehaw…"  
>T-Dog shook his head, looking down at him. "Damn, boy… Someone's gotta get 'im to bed."<p>

He threw Glenn's arm over his shoulder, practically dragging the man upright. I grabbed a bottle and jumped off the counter, taking a couple uneven steps to him. "Here. You go back to your room, share it with Jacqui. Celebrate life."  
>He took it, grinning. "Thanks, man. Now you take care of yourself, don't drink yourself to death or some stupid shit like that."<br>Glenn groaned, staring down at my feet. "I don't feel so good."  
>I snorted, shaking my head. "We'll be fine. Get that idiot to bed. 'Night."<p>

T-Dog nodded, and half-dragged him away. I sat back on my counter, sighing contently. "It's been a while since I've just _drank_. Without a care…"

I trailed off, wandering through memories while Daryl drank to forget his. I nudged him with my foot about five minutes later. "Hey... Entertain me."  
>He waved me off and took another swig. "Fuck off..."<br>I nudged him again, the bottles behind me clinking. "C'mooon... Sing something."  
>He shook his head and shoved my foot away. "No way."<br>I glared at him, hissing. "Do it or I'll start talkin' like a ditzy blonde and follow you around aaaall day."  
>He groaned. "God, no. But I'm a man, goddammit!"<br>I swung my legs and took another drink, tapping the beat onto the counter. "Now, when I was a little boy, at the age of five, 'had somethin' in my pocket. Keeps a lot of folks alive."  
>He groaned again, head flopping back. "Now I'm a man! Turnin' twenty one."<br>I hopped off my counter to stand behind him. "You know, baby..." I leaned in and spoke in his ear, grinning devilishly. "We can have a lot of fun."  
>I stopped singing and walked off, bottle in the air, swaying my hips to his words. "I'm a man! I spell M-A-N. Woooaaah, I'm a man!"<p>

I danced to the silent music, my bottle sloshing above my head. Daryl grinned and pointed at me with his free hand. "All you pretty women, standin' in line."  
>He must've even drunker than we thought, since he stood up and spun me into him, his alcohol-flushed face inches from mine. "I can make a love to you, baby... In an hour's time."<p>

I clinked our bottles together and slipped out of his grasp. He sat back down, now completely into the song. "I'm a man! I spell M-A-N. Woooaaah, I'm a man!"  
>I hopped back on the counter, joining in to the increasedly slurred singing. "Goin' back down, to Kansas town, to bring back the se-cond cousin. Little Johnny the Coqueroo. I'm a man! I spell M-hey-N. Woooaaah, I'm a man!"<br>I played the air guitar for a while, receiving a chuckle. "The line I shoot. Will never miss."  
>We looked at each other, smirking, and made fake guns with our finger. "The way I make love to 'em... They can't resist."<br>I fell back, our singing loud, slurred, and a bit off-key. "I'm a man! I spell M-A-N. Woooaaah, I'm a man! I'm a man!"  
>There was a moment of silence, then Daryl spoke up. "Can't fuckin' believe you made me sing."<br>I laughed lightly, speaking to the ceiling. "Blame it on the alcohol."  
>Fabric rustled as he sat up. "Oh hell no. I ain't singin' another one."<br>I laughed again, struggling to get back up. "I don't think your liver could take it."

The motion rocked the content of my stomach, making me groan. I stuffed my bag with everything nearby and pulled it over my shoulder, the bottles now inside clinking. "Ugh... Bedtime... I'm gonna go crash, see ya tomorrow."  
>He waved me off with the last of his bottle. "'Kay. Don't take up the whole couch, or I might 'ave to sit on ya."<p>

I snorted and walked off, giving a slightly unsteady wave. I walked -okay, _staggered_- into our room, kicked the door shut, and collapsed on the pulled out couch. Daryl came back some time later, downright tripping over himself. He dropped on the couch, right where I was currently unconscious. I slurred incomprehensible curses into the cushions, and turned on my side. He slid off, an arm resting over me, and snuggled into the cushion. I smiled faintly, drifting back to sleep.

I woke up the next morning; my head aching and mouth dry, but rather comfortable. A couple of strong arms around my middle, pulling me into a warm, solid chest. I shifted and Daryl groaned, burying his face in my neck. I chuckled quietly and shushed him, disentangling myself from his grip. I tumbled off the couch, willing my legs over to my bag, and fished out a pair of sunglasses, before carefully making my way out. Wouldn't want a cranky archer on my hands. I lazily made my way back to the cafeteria, dreading facing the previous night's mess. The light overhead was harsh, and Glenn pitifully groaned on the table. I chuckled, patting him on the back. "Oh come on. Take your hangover like a man!"  
>He whined, squinting up at me. "Easy for you to say… Cheater. You've got shades on your face."<p>

He fell back down, mumbling into his arm. I laughed and pushed them up, on top of my head. "Fair enough."  
>Andrea pulled a half-smile, her fork dangling. "You seem to be in a good mood. Don't get hangovers, do ya?"<br>I snorted, pouring myself a glass of something akin to orange juice. "I wish. My head feels like lead and someone stuffed cotton down my throat."  
>Lori pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows, and pushed Carl's plate towards him. "Nice to know."<p>

Andrea and Dale were seated quietly in front of them, Jacqui against the counter with T-Dog on the stove behind her. I got coffee from the adjoining counter, adding the proper amount of cream and sugar, and took a seat. A couple sips later, I discreetly slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. T-dog emptied his pan into a plate, which Andrea handed to me, along with a fork. I thanked her quietly and headed back to my seat, the six of us eating in silence. Rick walked in a moment later, rubbing his face. "Morning."  
>Carl looked at his father, chuckling. "Are you hung over? Mom said you'd be."<br>The ex-sheriff pulled out a chair, speaking with false cheeriness. "_Mom_ is right."  
>She cast him an amused glance. "Mom has that annoying habit."<br>T-Dog came back with his pan. "Eggs, powdered, but- But I do 'em _good_. Bet you can't tell."

Glenn moaned while Jacqui rubbed his back, Dale laughing silently. T-Dog scraped the eggs into Glenn's plate. "Protein helps the hangover."  
>Rick held up a pill bottle, looking at his wife. "Where'd all this come from?"<br>She glanced over, putting her fork down. "Jenner."  
>He passed her the bottle. "Could you help me, please?"<br>She unscrewed it, passing it back. "He thought we could use it. Some of us at least."  
>Glenn groaned again. "Don't ever ever<em> ever<em> let me drink again."

Shane walked in with a quiet greeting, followed by Carol and Sophia. Rick watched him pass, tossing back his pills. "Feel as bad as I do?"  
>Shane picked up a coffee cup. "Worse."<br>T-Dog watched him as he walked, frowning. "The hell happened to you? Your neck?"  
>Shane sat down in front of Rick, rubbing the scratch marks on his neck. "I must have done it in my sleep."<br>The other man frowned at him. "Never seen you do that before."  
>Shane sighed and looked at Lori. "Me either. Not like me at all."<br>A few seconds passed in silence before Jenner walked in. "Morning."  
>Shane held up his cup. "Hey, Doc."<br>Dale turned to said man, who was getting coffee. "Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with question first thing-"  
>The doctor chuckled. "But you will anyway."<br>Andrea turned as well, "We didn't come here for the eggs."

Daryl walked in silently, passing between Jenner and the rest of us. The doctor sighed, taking a sip. "We'll go to the lab. I'll… I'll show you something, answer questions. But first-"  
>He held up his cup. "Breakfast."<br>T-Dog came back around with his pan, chuckling. "Another round coming up!"

We all got some, split between paper and plastic plates. A large plate of bacon followed, hoots echoing loudly throughout the room. Daryl dropped in the chair next to me with a groan, clutching his head. "Fuckin' hell. Feels like my head's gonna explode."

I chuckled and grabbed his coffee, discreetly bringing it under the table. He raised an eyebrow, but let me continue. I uncorked the bottle in my lap and poured some into his cup, amber liquid disappearing into brown. I set it back on the table with a wink and went back to my own breakfast. "Irish coffee." My voice dropped to a whisper. "Nothing better for a hangover than getting drunk again."  
>He chuckled and took a sip, reaching for the bacon. "Might have to keep you around."<p>

"I'm honored." I replied. "Pass the juice, will ya?"

Jenner led us to a large conference room, the space filled with rows of computers. I took a seat on one of the desks while the good doctor typed away on the main computer's keyboard. "Give me playback of TS-19."  
>A large screen turned on, and VI's voice rang out. "Playback of TS-19."<br>He turned back towards us. "Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few."

A bright blue human head appeared on screen, slowly fading until only the brain remained. Four different angle views occupied the left side of the screen, numbers scrolling down. Carl squinted at the screen, then glanced at Jenner. "Is that a brain?"  
>The doctor nodded, turning to the boy "An extraordinary one." He took a pause before continuing. "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for E.I.V."<br>Vi responded, showing the appropriate images on-screen. "Enhanced internal view."

The camera zoomed into the brain, filling the screen with brightly colored neurons. Shane frowned up at it. "What are those lights?"  
>Jenner turned to the group, gesturing with a finger. "It's a person's life- Experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you- the thing that makes you unique. And human."<br>Daryl shook his head at the man, arms crossed. "You don't make sense ever?"  
>I snorted, running a hand though my hair. "You're too hung-over to make any yourself."<br>Jenner gave me an amused glance, but continued his explanation. "Those are synapses. Electrical impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says does or thinks from the moment of birth… to the moment of death."  
>Rick walked close to the screen. "Death? That's what this is, a vigil?"<br>Jenner answered without looking. "Yes. Or rather the playback of the vigil."  
>Andrea followed Rick's path. "This person died? Who?"<br>Again, he didn't look away. "Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected… And volunteered to have us… Record the process. VI, scan forward to the first event."  
>The mechanical voice answered, followed by beeping. "Scanning to first event."<p>

The brain onscreen suddenly zoomed out and changed, its brain stem dark and branching out. Glenn looked at it in a mix of wonder and confusion. "What is that?"  
>Jenner glanced at him, pointing at the actions on-screen. "It invades the brain like Meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage. Then the major organs." He was silent for a few seconds. "Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be… Gone."<br>Sophia looked up at her mother, eyes wide. "Is that what happened to Jim?"  
>Carol nodded, a small but sad smile on her lips. "Yes."<br>Most of us glanced down for a second, Andrea letting out a quiet "oh."  
>Jenner looked at us questioningly, so Lori spoke up. "She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister."<p>

He walked up to Andrea, speaking low. "I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is." He paused for a second and walked back to the screen. "Scan to the second event."  
>Vi echoed in the silence. "Scanning to second event."<br>Jenner spoke while the video loaded. "The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours."  
>I clenched my fist, speaking under my breath. "Twelve hours, thirty-four minutes."<br>Daryl glanced at me, but the doctor continued his speech. "In the case of this patient, it was two hours. One minute… Seven seconds."

Red sparks began popping up on the screen, traveling though the dead neurons before going out. Lori leaned forward, disbelief clear in her tone. "It restarts the brain?"  
>Jenner shook his head. "No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving."<br>Rick walked up again. "But they're not alive."  
>Jenner gestured at the screen, walking to stand besides him. "You tell me."<br>Rick shook his head. "It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."  
>Jenner nodded in response. "Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part, that doesn't come back. The <em>you <em>part. Just a shell. Driven by mindless instincts."

A flash went off and a large stripe appeared through the brain. Carol straightened, frowning. "God. What was that?  
>Andrea answered quietly. "He shot his patient in the head. Didn't you?"<br>Jenner didn't answer, walking away instead. "Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations."  
>Vi repeated the order, and Andrea crossed her arms. "You have no idea what it is, do you?"<br>Jenner paused before answering. "It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."  
>Jacqui looked at him, her hands on her hips. "Or the wrath of God?"<br>The doctor looked down. "There is that."  
>Andrea began walking again. "Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere."<br>Carol followed, her voice quivering. "There are others, right? Other facilities?"  
>Jenner shook his head, pacing as well. "There may be some. People like me."<br>Rick stepped up to him. "But you don't know? How can you not know?"  
>He answered without looking at the ex-sheriff. "Everything went down. Communications, directives, all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month."<br>Andrea shook her head. "So it's not just here? There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That's what you're really saying, right?"  
>Everyone was silent, save for Andrea scoffing and Jacqui letting out a soft "Jesus…"<br>Daryl broke the calm with his every-lasting class and tactfulness, rubbing his face with both hands. "Man, I'm gonna get shitfaced drunk. Again."  
>I pulled the top off my bottle, taking a long drink. "I hear ya."<br>Dale walked towards the Doctor, ignoring the two of us. "Doctor Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but…

He walked past him, behind me, to stop and point at a large red countdown. We turned our heads to follow the movement, finally noticing the obnoxious clock. "That clock… It's counting down. What happens at zero?"  
>Jenner hesitated. "The... basement generators. They run out of fuel."<br>Rick shook his head. "And then?"  
>The other man didn't answer, so Rick turned to the ceiling. "Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"<br>The mechanical voice echoed through the room. "When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."  
>I swirled the contents of my bottle, feet swinging. "I don't suppose you'll tell us what that means, will ya?"<p>

The doctor didn't answer. I snorted and took a large swig. "I thought so."

He turned and walked away, not glancing at any of us. Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog followed Rick out of the room, most likely to the basement. Daryl and I made no move to follow, but Shane stopped at the doorway and pointed at us. "Stay. We don't need two drunks running around there."  
>I grumbled and took another swig. "I ain't drunk."<br>Daryl snatched it from me and emptied a good quarter of it in one go. "Not yet you ain't."  
>I let out a half-laugh and reached to snatch it back. "True."<p>

Unfortunately, I went a little too far and tumbled off the table. I groaned, glaring in response to the muffled snickering coming from the rest of the group. "Shaddup. I'm going back to my room."

I picked myself up and headed out the door, snatching the bottle back in the process. I paused at the top of the stairs, looking over my shoulder. "You should too. No use staying here."

I walked back to the room and flopped on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Daryl walked in, knocking softly on the doorframe. "Hey man, you alright?"  
>I raised the bottle to my lips, no even bothering to raise my head. "Yup."<br>He grabbed my bottle with a snort, flopping down beside me. "Me either."  
>"Huh."<br>He scowled at the white tiles above us. "Tell anyone and you're dead."  
>I sighed, sitting up. "Didn't plan on it."<br>I reached almost all the way off the bed and grabbed a pack of card before righting myself. "Poker?"  
>He sat up, a slightly drunken grin on his features. "I'm gonna beat your ass, Princess."<p>

And indeed, most of the following half hour was spent with my getting my ass handed to me by our resident redneck. The soft whooshing of the air vents suddenly stopped, barely registering in the back of my alcohol-addled mind. I did notice, however, when the lights went out.  
>"Daryl?"<br>"Yah?"  
>"I think we're in trouble."<br>"Yup."  
>Carol and Lori's voices came in from the hallway. "Why is the air off? And the lights in our room?"<p>

Daryl got up, swearing as he tripped over the end of the bed, and opened the door. He stuck his head out into the lit hallway, his bottle dangling. "What's goin' on? Why's everythin' turned off?"  
>Jenner snatched it as he passed, walking down the now-crowded hallway. "Energy use is being prioritized."<br>My companion followed him, and I reluctantly did as much. "Air isn't a priority? And lights?"  
>Jenner shook his head. "It's not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down."<br>Daryl hollered as the doctor walked away from us, jogging to catch up. "Hey! Hey, what the hell does that mean? Hey, man, I'm talking to you. What do you mean it's shutting itself down? How can a building do anything?"  
>Jenner muttered in response. "You'd be surprised."<br>Lori leaned over the railing as the other men came into view. "Rick?"  
>We all went down the stairs, her husband walking over. "Jenner. What's happening?"<br>The doctor pushed past him, barely glancing. "The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule."

We all stared in silence, Daryl snatching his bottle back. Jenner gave us a look before walking again. "It was the French."  
>Andrea narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"<br>Jenner looked back at us. "They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While out people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution."  
>I snickered. "So-called "kingdom of the white flag" has the biggest balls after all."<br>Jacqui spoke up, making no note of my comment. "What happened?"  
>Jenner half-turned. "The same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"<br>Shane leapt up the stairs. "Let me tell you-"  
>Rick pushed him back down. "To hell with it, Shane. I don't even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We're getting out of here <em>now<em>!"

Everyone started moving at once, and an alarm blared. Someone, probably Shane, yelled. I leapt up the stairs, Rick and Daryl on my heels, as the big screen lit up again, a thirty-minute countdown appearing. Vi echoed again. "30 minutes to decontamination."

Jenner pressed a few buttons, and a large metal door started coming down, right between Daryl and I. I flattened myself on the floor, the gap already too small for me to fit through. Daryl's wide blue eyes met mine, his hand reaching under the door. "C'mon! Get outta there!"  
>I shook my head, the gap already reduced to just a few inches. "Don't be stupid..."<br>His eyes narrowed in anger, and he retracted his hand. "Dammit. JENNER!"  
>The door shut, and Glenn's voice sounded in panic. "Did you just lock us in? He just locked us in!"<br>Daryl's own voice followed, slightly muffled. "You son of a bitch! You locked us in here, and left her out there!"  
>There was some kind of fight, and Rick spoke up. "Hey, Jenner. Open that door now."<p>

I stood up, an ear to the door, and hit it with my fist. The other man responded, his voice barely audible. "There's no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."  
>Daryl spat at him, his voice strained. "Well open the damn things."<p>

Jenner's quiet voice responded. "That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you, once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that." He paused for a moment. "It's better this way."  
>Rick nearly growled at the doctor. "What is? What happens in 28 minutes?"<br>Jenner didn't respond and Shane yelled again. "What happens in 28 minutes?!"  
>Daryl followed. "Come on!"<p>

A chair clattered, and Jenner shouted above them. "You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff!" He spat the last three words out, emphasizing each one. "Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! EVER!"  
>We all fell silent, and Jenner continued after a moment, his voice lowered enough that I had to strain to understand him. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure- in a terrorist attack, for example- H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out. "<br>Rick spoke again. "H.I.T.s?"  
>There was a pause. "Vi, define."<br>The AI responded immediately. "H.I.T.s- high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired."  
>Jenner spoke quietly, his voice barely audible from where I was. "It sets the air on fire. No pain. An end to sorrow, grief… Regret. Everything."<p>

We were all silent, his words hanging in the air. I slid down the door, staring numbly at the wall. The hall was silent, void of all life and breath besides mine. The silence weighed down on me, pressing down my throat and into my chest. I wrapped my arms around myself, tears stinging my eyes.

_"It can't end like this..."_

I ground my teeth together, getting up with a snarl.

"_It won't. I'm not going to die quietly, and certainly not alone!"_

I growled and got to my feet, searching the rooms for a sturdy weapon. "Dammit! C'mon... There's gotta be something..."

Then, finally, an axe. I ran back to the door, swinging back. The axe hit the surface with a loud clang, leaving only a shallow scrape behind. "Dammit!"  
>Daryl threw his bottle on the other side, the glass shattering on impact. "Open the damn door!"<br>Shane ran up, and something hit the door. "Out of my way!"

T-Dog shouted for Daryl before another weapon hit the door. I pounded on the thick metal, yelling out. "Hey! What do you guys have back there?"  
>Shane yelled back, pausing his swings. "Fire axe! There's one in the break room on your side."<br>I swung again, the handle vibrating against my hands. "I already got it. Is it working?"  
>I vaguely heard Jenner between two swings. "Those doors designed to withstand a rocket launcher."<br>Running footsteps, then Daryl's voice rang out. "Well your head ain't!"

About five different voices sounded, alternating between screaming his name and telling him to back up. They calmed down, and Jenner spoke again. "You do want this. Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."  
>I yelled out, swinging at the door again. "Way to throw him under the bus! Good job! You get an award."<p>

The group started talking again, something about hope.

"_Yeah, well hope for me, right now, is tryin' to up this damn door."_

Carol's voice slipped through the repeated bangs of metal. "This isn't right. You can't just keep us here. My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this..."

A shotgun cocked. There was yelling and shoving, and Shane threatening to blow Jenner's brains out if he didn't open the door. Rick and Lori tried to talk, only succeeding in making Shane scream. Shot were fired, and someone knocked to the ground. I paused, the silence weighing down on me again, before gritting my teeth and resuming. Daryl joined back in a few seconds later, his axe clattering against the door. "I'm getting you outta there, Princess! We're not gonna die here!"  
>I pulled half a smile, swinging my axe back. "Get your redneck ass back here, then we'll talk."<p>

The clang of axes mixed together, blocking out others' conversation. I yelled in frustration, my nails digging into the wooden handle. "God _dammit_! _Move_, you piece of shit!"  
>Jenner opened the door as I made contact and Daryl ran into the hallway, narrowly missing the swinging blade. "C'mon! Let's go!"<p>

I tossed my axe to Glenn, heading straight to our room. I could hear him yell from the doorway. "Hey, we've got four minutes left! Come on!"

I grabbed my bags, Daryl's, and our weapons before running out to follow him. The elevator was of course out of service, so we sprinted up the stairs. We halted in the lobby, panting. I growled, curling my hands to fists. "We need an ID to get that curtain up."  
>Glenn jogged passed, jingling a card. "Who do you think I am?"<p>

He scanned it, the metal sheeting raising itself. Daryl nodded in approval, jutting his chin towards the entrance. "Get them doors open!"

Glenn tugged on the handles, without success. He turned back to us, his voice laced with panic. "It doesn't work!"

T-Dog fiddled with the controls while Glenn yanked on the door, and Shane took an axe to the window with Daryl. T-Dog soon gave up on the controls and ran up with a chair. "Daryl, look out!"

I stood in the middle of the chaos, mentally counting everyone in the room.

"_Nine… We're down three. Dammit!"_

Shane cocked his gun and aimed. "Dog, get down! Get down!"

T-Dog flattened himself, and Shane pulled the trigger. Small indents appeared on the glass, but the window stayed whole. Carol ran up, searching through her bag. "Rick, I have something that might help."  
>Shane walked behind her, scoffing. "Carol, I don't think a nail file's gonna do it."<br>I crossed my arms, scowling. "And the sexism award of the year goes to…"

That earned me a rather venomous glare. Carol pulled her arm out, a grenade resting on her palm. "Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform, I found this in your pocket."

Rick took it and yelled before setting it by the window and pulling the pin. We all scrambled for cover, and Rick ran off with a half-formed "oh shit". The window finally shattered, and we all scrambled out. I felt something slice into my arm, but didn't particularly want to pause and investigate. The blast had drawn some walkers to us, but Shane, Rick, and Daryl made quick work of them. We all climbed into the cars, Rick taking control of the RV instead of Dale. The man apparently made it out though, as Rick honked for him to hurry up and get down. We all scrambled away from the windows, fearing the H.I.T.s. The CDC went up in flames a second later, the blast rattling the truck windows. I watched Dale and Andrea climb into the RV, and our not-so-merry band set off. I let out a shaky breath, shoving bags into the small backseat. "Damn..."  
>Daryl smirked, although his hands shook slightly. "Told you I'd get ya outta- Hey! You're bleeding all over my truck!"<br>My eyes widened, looking around. "What? Where?!"

Bright red liquid dripped from my sleeve, the fabric clinging to my skin. I swore quietly, stretching out the torn fabric. Blood oozed out of a clean, straight cut on my shoulder, turning the yellow fabric a deep red. Daryl glanced over, chewing on his thumb. "Ya alright?"

I nodded, taking off my shirt. I hissed when I pulled it off, the cut opening further. "Ow! Erm. That was stupid."  
>I rolled down the window, and threw the shirt right out. "Goodbye, zombie bait. Now where the hell's my bag?"<p>

I maneuvered it back in front of me, pulling supplies out with my clean arm. I soaked a clean pad of gauze and quickly wiped the cut, humming as a distraction. I wiped off the blood down to my elbow, and stuck a large Band-Aid on the cut. "There. We're good."  
>He snorted, shaking his head. "Dumbass."<p>

* * *

><p><em>And there we go. Yeah, I know I updated a little early. Oh well! Hopefully, you guys will have caught it in time.<em>

_Now, yeah, yeah, they were both way out of character, I know. But guess what. Have you met a drunk person? They're not exactly themselves. They're more laid back, relaxed, and some walls go down. This was a nice dose of fluff before we dive right in to the whole Sophia shebang, so sue me.  
>Still, I will continue to edit and work on this because... Eh. I'm not entirely happy with how clunky some of it sounds. Let me know what you think!<em>

_Ch.4 will be out... In a long while. I have 1554 words as of now, and none of them are in a complete sentence.  
>See y'all later!<em>


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